


Rebellious

by IndelibleSpock



Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies), Star Trek: The Original Series
Genre: Alternate Universe, Gen, M/M, Starfleet Academy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-12
Updated: 2015-11-07
Packaged: 2018-04-20 08:30:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 21,195
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4780649
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IndelibleSpock/pseuds/IndelibleSpock
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>James Kirk is just starting to get it together during his first year at the academy. He's got an awesome house to live in, he's keeping up with his classes, and he's still having plenty of fun during his off time. But then he meets Spock, a Vulcan determined to go against tradition to uphold his own logical abilities, who makes Kirk have to rethink everything he once thought about himself.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Boredom

**Author's Note:**

  * For [AutumnOcean](https://archiveofourown.org/users/AutumnOcean/gifts).



> Spock's characterization is inspired by [spockfucker](http://spockfucker.tumblr.com) over on tumblr. The story itself is all [autumnocean's](http://archiveofourown.org/users/autumnocean) fault.

It was undoubtedly a pathetic attempt to entertain himself.

  _Balance. Keep it steady. Go unnoticed._

Jim Kirk leaned backwards on his chair so the two front legs were off the floor. He was just one maddeningly bored cadet among 230 others sitting in one of the largest lecture halls on campus. Around him his fellow classmates were scribbling down notes on their tablets or better yet playing that damned role play dating game that recently soared into popularity.

All the while the instructor was continuing his tirade explaining the faults of Alexander the Great.

Kirk knew he should be listening to this particular lecture. “Military History in the Classical Era” was part of his core requirements as a cadet in the command track. But there were far more pressing matters to focus on today.

_Maybe I can lean back just a bit farther._ He inched backwards, nearing to a perfect 45-degree angle.

_Ha! Those dumb yoga classes are coming in handy! Perfect balan-_

The instructor turned around just as he saw Kirk fall backwards in his chair. It was quite a sight. The young cadet falling while trying to grasp at the air like there was a rope hanging down from the sky to save him. He thought it would have been a humorous tale to discuss later that day until he heard the cadet’s head smash against the table that was behind him.

 Before the instructor could take a step, a cadet stood to his feet glancing back at the kid who was lying flat on his back with a dazed look in his eyes.

 “I will see to it, instructor,” the cadet leaped over the table that separated himself from Kirk.

 He carefully pulled the chair away from Kirk. “Are you hurt badly?”

 He tried to open his eyes wider because he couldn’t see very well. Everything was blurry and faded together. But of course was fine. His head only hurt a little.

  _I’m okay! I’m sorry I interrupted your class, sir. I’ll just see myself out as to not be a distraction._

That’s what Kirk wanted to sa,y but what came out was nowhere near what he wanted to communicate.

 “It seems as though he is quoting Fyodor Dostoyevsky’s ‘Crime and Punishment,’” the voice came again.

 And then the heat of someone’s hands were holding his body upright.

 

\----------

 

“Well I don’t care if he wants us to work on that project, I’m not doing it!”

 There was a thunk against a surface and then the sound of stomping feet approaching.

 “And then this idiot,” came a sigh.

 Kirk figured he might as well open his eyes.

 His vision was almost back to normal, a few hazy patches here and there, but at least he could make out Bones muttering to himself about pointless projects that “make no fucking sense” and needing a few rounds of shots later.

 “Sorry, but what?”

 Bones looked up from his tablet, “about time you woke up. I was Actually getting worried about you.”

 Kirk slowly propped himself up on his elbows. He was lying in one of the infirmary’s beds. “How long was I out for?”

 “Four hours, 20 minutes, and 38 seconds.”

  _That wonderfully calm voice again._

 He looked over to his left and saw a tall slim young man sitting in one of the visitor’s chairs. His arms were folded across his chest, and his legs stretched out in front of him. Kirk knew this guy was a Vulcan, at least he was aware of what Vulcans looked like and knew there was one hanging around here somewhere.

  _Aren’t Vulcans supposed to wear robes or something in their off time? This guy’s wearing a damned leather jacket._

Bones knelt down with a tricorder in hand scanning Kirk’s head. “Guy’s been waiting here for at least two hours. I dunno what he wants, but you better talk to ‘em. He’s freaking out the other patients.”

 The Vulcan got out of his chair in one seamless movement and walked over to the bed Kirk was lying on.

 “Doctor, I have been here for one hour and 14 minutes, and I have yet to see anyone exhibit concerns over my presence here except for you.” He gave the doctor a once-over and then concentrated on Kirk.

 “Due to your conduct in class, I am here to let you know that I am to file a report on you.”

 Kirk shook his head despite the pain that erupted with the gesture. “I’m sorry, what? A report? What the hell did I do!?”

 He was now standing in front of the Vulcan, their chests almost touching. Kirk could feel the heat radiating off of him.

 “You caused an interruption in class. I see that a minor infraction would help retain what is left of your discipline.”

  _You ungrateful sack of shit._

“I wasn’t causing a disruption for the sake of causing a disruption. The actual disrupting was unintentional! It was an accident!”

 “Yet you were aware of the potential for the disruption? Balancing on a chair is a risk. A risk relies on unknown outcomes. The only reason why a human would take the risk is to gain adrenaline to satisfy their emotional needs.”

 Kirk was about to punch the Vulcan, he had his arm ready to slam his fist against that glass-like sculpture of perfection that was called a face. Luckily, Bones grabbed Kirk’s shoulder and spun him around.

 “I’d love to hear philosophical debate about what a disruption is, but if you don’t sit your ass back down you’ll pass out.” He glared at the Vulcan, “and YOU. Get the hell out of my infirmary, before I report your stupid mouth for a disruption!”

 The Vulcan nodded slightly and shoved his hands into his pocket. No anger, no frustration, no apparent emotion whatsoever shown through his veil.

 As he walked out the door, the Vulcan glanced back at Bones. “It is not your infirmary. Procure me a deed.”

 Kirk watched the Vulcan walk through the threshold and disappear.

 “So uh, Bones. What’s up?”

 “Concussion,” he looked back down at his tablet and sighed at whatever information was coming through on the newsfeeds. “We’ll walk home together after I’m done with this shift.”


	2. Night Out

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kirk goes out and learns something new about Spock.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can only assume that in the 23rd century, marijuana is legal (unless we get another William Randolph Hearst situation) and alcohol in common vernacular is called a drug (because it is). I'm sure vending is a bit more streamlined than it is now.

“As your doctor, fuck you. As your best friend, fuck you.”

 Kirk couldn’t help but laugh at that response. It had been a week since he concussed his head, and he diligently listened to Bones’ orders to stay inside and not take part in his usual weekend festivities of partying. It was fine by Kirk though; he could spend the extra hours at home reading for his classes or for pleasure.

 But that itch to go back out and socialize was beginning to surface. He missed the dumb drunk karaoke at the bar and the light-hearted conversation he could have with his classmates. Sometimes he’d rather talk to them about what they were going to do during the holidays than ask them to collaborate on research.

 He decided that tonight he was going to go out to the bar, that tonight he was going to get drunk, that tonight he would forget about his paper, and that tonight was definitely THE night he was going to hook up with someone.

 Bones thought differently on the matter.

 “Your head is still whacked out from your tumbling lesson in class the other day,” he grabbed a bottle of bourbon that was sitting next to the replicator, “take it easy.”

 Kirk eyed the bottle, “take it easy yourself.”

 “Oh, this,” he held up the bottle and inspected the label. “This is easy.”

 It was another spectacular evening in the Bay Area. The weather was just starting to turn more into the fall weather Kirk was used to back home. The settling fog and clouds against the setting sun were an array of pinks and purples with a fiery orange streak lining the horizon over the water.

 Despite the nip in the air, he neglected to bring a jacket. There would be no need for one once he walked into a building filled with moshing on the dance floor.

 His usual hangout was not far from campus. A mere two city blocks. Yet the campus itself was a monstrous piece of land filled with academic buildings, dorms and multiple security facilities that belonged to The Federation. And Bones was so unwilling to live in any other part of town Kirk was forced to walk through the entire campus just to go have some fun.

  _Stop complaining. At least I’m living in a house and not a dorm room. Bones could have easily kicked me to the side._

At least the walk let him relax. He organized his thoughts and prioritized his to-do list. Maybe he should have stayed home and worked on that research paper. Maybe he did need to discipline himself some more.

  _I wonder where that stupid Vulcan is now._

He felt the blood rush to his cheeks as he remembered how hot he was standing next to the Vulcan, not to mention his hands on his body holding him upright. He’d been dreaming about that for the past week. But what confused him most, wasn’t his apparent feelings for the stoic being, but the apparent threat. Filing a disciplinary report for a small matter such as falling out of a chair? Was it logical for that Vulcan to speak and not act?

  _Maybe he got so busy he forgot._

Kirk ran a hand through his hair as he rounded the corner to exit the far side of campus. His thoughts were entirely on the Vulcan; the heat, the tension, the points of his ears and how they contrasted with the softer angular structure of his face.

 It was as though Kirk’s thoughts willed the Vulcan to appear. As he was walking down a small pathway he turned to look down an alleyway just out of curiosity.

 And there he was. The leather jacket, and that skin-tight denim. What was he? Some type of 20th century gangster?

 There was a small group of cadets surrounding the Vulcan. They must have had a late class or performance review as they were still in their uniforms. One of them caught Kirk’s eye.

 “Oh my god! Jimmy, I didn’t think you’d be here!” A blonde with bouncy curls smiled and waved at him. 

_Oh no, not you._

He put on his best smile and pretended he was overjoyed to see this particular girl, which he wasn’t in the slightest.

 The Vulcan turned around and Kirk could have sworn he saw him smirk.

 “So what are you all doing hanging out in an alley, Poppy?” Kirk approached the group. He recognized the two other cadets from his engineering classes, but Poppy was the only person he knew by name.

 “There’s a new bar that we’re gonna check out. It’s called The Basement. You should totally come with us!” Poppy grabbed his hand and pulled him towards the establishment which was situated behind an old cellar door.

 “Oh holy shit, wait!” Poppy stopped in her tracks and whipped around. “Jimmy, this is Peter,” she pointed to a tall thinly built cadet with black hair who tipped his head in acknowledgement. “And this is Whitaker,” another point at a slightly shorter but still thinly built man.

 “Just call me Whit,” he smiled as Poppy now was entirely latched on to Kirk’s left arm.

 “And that’s Spock,” she said, beaming in his direction. “He’s a VULCAN.”

  _So his name is Spock. How interesting._

“We have met before,” Spock said with that unrelenting emotionless tone.

 So Kirk was dragged into The Basement with Polly and her friends. It was more relaxed in the bar than he would have liked and he would have loved it if Polly stopped calling him Jimmy. Ever since he made out with her three weeks ago she had been determined to court him. Every time Kirk tried to explain to her that he wasn’t interested in a relationship she invalidated his feelings.

 “You’re just saying that. Everyone wants SOMEONE to cuddle up next to at night! And you wouldn’t have made out with me if you didn’t want me to be that someone!”

 He eventually gave up and sank into his seat focusing on the condensation dripping down his glass. He couldn’t say he didn’t want to be here, since Whitaker and Peter were happy to talk to him. Both of them were studying linguistics and literature, and were caught up in discussing Shakespearean politics.

 “You look as though you are not enjoying the discussion,” Spock spoke through his steepled fingers. He had been listening intently on the cadets’ discussion. He thought the perceptions people could infer from text was fascinating.

 Kirk looked up at Spock. “I think the discussion is fine. I like Shakespeare. I’m just,” he paused and then sighed. “Distracted.”

 “Can I inquire about your distraction?”

 Kirk sighed in annoyance. He didn’t want to have this conversation the second time in a night. Spock probably was more understanding than Polly was, but he concluded that he couldn’t be entirely sure.

 Spock watched Kirk walk out of the bar, paid for both their drinks and followed the young cadet back into the alley.

“I did not intend to offend with my question.”

 Kirk turned around on his heel. His face was hot with embarrassment, and his eyes were watering.

  _Oh so first I bash my head in front of him and now I’m crying in front of him!? Get it together, James!_

“I’m sick of people like Polly who invalidate me, alright?” He spoke through the knot forming in his throat. This was a sensitive topic for him and for all of his own race which were still majorly monogamous people. “You hang out with Polly. I don’t know your stance on polyamory or aromanticism. Most people hang out with those they agree with.”

 Spock lifted his eyebrow. “I appreciate your logic. However, I do not agree with Polly’s philosophies.” He bridged the gap between himself and Kirk. “I am only ‘hanging out’ with her because she provides me with cannabis. I was expecting to buy some later tonight.”

  _A Vulcan who smokes marijuana? That’s NOT was I was expecting._

“W-weed? Wait, I wasn’t aware Polly had a license to sell anything, let alone had a drug license.”

 “When I first learned of her business that was my first inquiry. Her diction may not sound very professional, but she is an accomplished businesswoman.”

 “All I know about Vulcans is that you’re a species who praises logic. Getting high doesn’t seem very logical.”

 The corners of Spock’s lips rose ever so slightly, Kirk didn’t even notice. “However, I find it very logical to test my abilities to keep a focused mind.”

  _Oh. He’s good. That’s good. That’s really really good. What a damned smart brain to go with that damned pretty face._

“In any case,” Spock continued as he dutifully noticed Kirk blushing through his already flushed face, “You have the right to do as you please with your romantic and sexual lives as long as you do no harm. I see no logic in invalidating others based on arbitrary facts.”

 “God, I could fucking kiss you right now,” Kirk blurted out.

 Spock rose his eyebrows, right as Kirk widened his eyes in response.

“I give you my consent,” Spock said.


	3. Park Song

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Spock and Kirk discuss logic over a joint.

“My face feels puffy,” Kirk said as he was pressing on his cheeks.

 “That is the THC in your sinuses, Jim,” Spock took another drag on the joint.

 They were sitting on top of a picnic table at the park. Spock told Kirk how the drug might benefit him by putting his thoughts about Polly to rest. He nervously accepted as he never smoked marijuana.

 Kirk kept pressing on his cheeks. “So did you report me, yet?”

 “I told the dean what happened and he said he would make furnishing changes in the lecture hall.”

 He sort of got the message, but he was also very engrossed in the oak tree that was a few feet from them. “Yeah but did you report me?”

 “I just told you I did not.”

 Kirk laughed. He didn’t know why he was laughing but it felt so damn amazing. The crisp air filling his lungs invigorated his senses. They heightened to a point where he swore he could feel the molecules that made up the wooden table.

 “You guys don’t do emotions but I don’t get it.” He let his head hang off the side of the table. The rush of blood to his head felt incredible. “This stuff makes me feel amazing, and I wanna say it does to you too or else you wouldn’t be smoking it.”

 Spock considered this a great deal. Since he left Vulcan and resided on Earth he found that traditional methods of repressing one’s emotions were inefficient on this planet. He figured that one here had to engage with emotions and understand them before they could be repressed appropriately. It was a concession he had to make while first living on Earth. Some humans were more emotional than others and he understood that he had a 99 percent chance of working with such an individual.

 So he devised a plan to first understand his own emotions that had surfaced. He could no longer dismiss his human side. Then once he understood the situations that brought down his shields, he deployed his typical Vulcan practices. But on Vulcan, temptation was rare. On Earth, temptation was a normality. He needed to work on a method on top of traditional Vulcan ones to prepare for this.

 It was three months, two days, 6 hours, and forty minutes since his arrival on Earth that he decided to buy a bar of chocolate. It was a logical purchase comparable to a human buying a shot of whiskey. He intended to inebriate himself and then meditate so that he would be unaffected by the substance.

 Two weeks after his initial try with chocolate, he considered marijuana as another option. Scientifically, he was curious to see how it would metabolize in his body. After a brief discussion with his biology professor about the experiment, he found Polly who had more than enough product to run multiple trials.

 He discovered that compared to a human, cannabis did not metabolize much differently. He also discovered that it affected people in different ways so his findings would always be partially inconclusive.

 But did he like the feeling the drug gave him? He spent many nights wrestling this thought. What is to like? Is it satisfaction? Is it happiness? While some of his senses were dulled, others were heightened. The drug both reduced his capabilities to work in some situations and increased his capabilities. But to like? He could not entirely grasp that question.

 “I understand why others ‘like’ this drug. I however, find it beneficial during particular activities.” Spock looked away from the lanterns lining the pathway and towards Kirk, who was sitting up watching him intently. His blue eyes were wide with curiosity.

 “Explain why it’s logical for you to have a tongue piercing,” Kirk leaned in. “Come on, stick out your tongue. I totally saw a tongue ring.”

 Spock obliged and stuck out his tongue. Kirk leaned even closer and inspected the jewelry in the Vulcan’s mouth.

  _Is that an emerald?_

“Is that why you didn’t kiss me with an open mouth?”

 Even Spock was surprised at that response.

 “It is still healing. I do not want to compromise the process. As for it being logical, I merely wanted to know how well I could handle a type of pain I had never experienced before. If I am to engage in Starfleet activities, I want to be well prepared. A puncture wound is a possible injury.”

 Kirk bit his lip. How far can this guy stretch logic? He acts as though every action can have a logical reason to it.

 “By getting a tongue piercing?”

“Scientifically, a piercing is a puncture wound. The only difference is the jewelry in place that lets the wound heal around it.”

 The two finished the joint and continued to talk. Kirk learned that Spock was a graduate student reluctantly taking command courses at the advice of his adviser. Spock was also teaching classes far beyond Kirk’s understanding of math. When Kirk’s head cleared, they walked around campus taking in its emptiness during the middle of the night. Spock gave up his jacket for the shivering human to wear.

 Kirk regretted calling the Vulcan stupid, or wanting to punch him during their second encounter. Spock was a gentle soul, and the polar opposite of Bones. He might be able to use the contrast to his advantage. Get pumped up for class with Bones, and then relax with Spock when he needed rest.

 “Hey, Spock?”

 “Yes, Jim?”

 “So you really don’t mind if I’m some polyamorous-maybe-sometimes-aromantic idiot, right?”

 Spock stopped walking and placed his hand on Kirk’s shoulder. “Jim, I strongly believe it is your right to desire or not to desire as you please. I have already told you my opinion.”

 “So that means I can continue to kiss you?” Kirk blushed. Earlier this evening he had a good feeling he was going to hook up with someone tonight. He didn’t think it would be the Vulcan who threatened him in the infirmary. “I-I mean if you want! No pressure! I just-I like you.”

 “Your furious blushing throughout the night gave me clues to your feelings.”

 That made Kirk blush harder. He tried to conceal his face behind Spock’s jacket. “So?”

 Spock took Kirk’s hand and held it, but realized that he would not know the significance. So he leaned in to kiss him as well.

 Whoever you are, Spock thought as he felt Kirk’s presence within him, you compel me to do more than I have ever thought. Temptation is still working against me.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fun fact: I've never written Spock before. Second fun fact: Chapter title is the name of a song by The Dodos, which I highly recommend (no pun intended).


	4. Run

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kirk gets on the grumpy side of a drill sergeant.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've always wanted to explore more of the military side of Starfleet.

As a first-year student at the academy, Kirk had to be taught military discipline and the rules of both Starfleet and The Federation. Every week he and the other first-years were called into a performance review. At least 60 percent of Starfleet regulations had to be committed to memory by the second year.

 Kirk rarely had problems during reviews. He could recite information correctly and obediently, he knew perfectly well how to walk in step and present himself. But today he faced his biggest problem of the year so far: he was starving.

 Just to make sure he was on time, he skipped breakfast. It was a shame too. Every Tuesday morning, Bones would get up early and cook. He said it was simple way to stay true to his Southern roots. Kirk with all his dismay had to race away from the maple bacon frying in the pan.

 The drill instructor was in front him yelling away. It was humorous, he thought, that through the centuries there were always going to be constants. Cadets getting yelled in the face was one of them.

  _Hurry up, I need lunch. I need it._

He was so enamored with what he was going to eat for lunch he didn’t hear he was being given directions. So as the other cadets marched away, Kirk was still standing at attention.

 “Cadet Kirk!” The sergeant scowled. “Did you not hear me?”

 “Wha-?”

“Pick up your feet and get your ass back into line!”

 Kirk shook his head and regained his composure. “Sir, yes, sir!” He ran over to the other cadets marching, trying to catch up, unfortunately he still wasn’t thinking straight. He ran right into the cadet in front of him, both of them toppling to the ground.

 “Dude the fuck!?” Cadet Lilon scrambled to his feet.

 “Sorry, I-“ _Oh fuck me._

 When Kirk first got to the academy, he asked around campus about the drill instructors. He learned that some of them relished in making newbies squirm under their authority. Others simply had bad tempers, and drilling cadets into the ground was a perfectly logical part-time job for them.

 Every time he asked, Kirk was told not to get Kernalis for a drill instructor. He had a bad temper, and pushed his cadets farther than any of the others. It was just his luck when he received his schedule that Kernalis’ name was on the list.

 Theo Kernalis was not a very tall man. He didn’t tower over first year cadets with height, he towered over them with brute strength. Most of his off time was spent lifting weights while catching up on the news, studying political theory. Kirk thought Kernalis was possibly the least likely candidate for someone who wanted to work in diplomacy.

 “Cadet Kirk,” Kernalis snarled, “since you like running so much, you’ll get ten laps.”

 “But that’s ten miles!”

 “You want to make it 20?!”

  _So much for lunch._

 --------

 

The first three laps were easy. He just had to pace himself and remember to breathe correctly. He made it to lap number seven before his breathing was more erratic and sweat started to blind him.

 “So close, so damn close,” he panted.

 “Only 1.4 miles left.”

 Kirk nearly stumbled again hearing that voice.

 “SPOCK!?”

 “I am doing what you humans do. I am empathizing with your plight.” He took a drag on a cigarette.

 It was one thing for Spock to be running with him, it was another to be in his black uniform, but to top it off he was smoking a cigarette.

 “I don’t need your empathy—when it is not—serious to begin with.”

 “Would you prefer if I sat on the ground and watched you?”

 He really didn’t have time for this banter. His sides were cramping and his throat burned. The only thing he preferred at this point was a bottle of water and the largest greasiest cheeseburger San Francisco had to offer.   

 Spock continued to run with Kirk. While his intention was true, to empathize with his friend, he knew that he could not fully understand the human’s full exertion. He could only understand that long-distance running was physically demanding. He remembered his own experiences running laps after ‘mouthing off’ to a sergeant. He remembered the stress they were trying to inflict on him.

 When Kirk finally finished his tenth lap he fell to his knees and then gently lied himself on the ground. The grass prickled his skin, his muscles were twitching in relief, and he could feel the stress leaving his body. It was both painful and pleasurable.

 Spock sat next to him and nodded respectfully at Kernalis who approached them. “Kirk, I commend you. None of these idiots out here would have made it.”

 “Oh, that’s nice,” he responded breathlessly. “Do you have water?”

 “Basic right,” he placed a bottle of water next to Kirk who was still face down in the grass, “Nice to see you out here again Mister Spock.”

 “It has been a while,” Spock kept his focus on Kirk. “I do hope you finished your thesis for Thursday’s class.”

 “You’re a Vulcan, you don’t hope.”

 “As much as I do not find being out here under your instruction, ‘nice.’”

 Kernalis stammered then walked away mumbling strings of insults towards Spock.

 Kirk finally turned his head, “how’d you know I was out here?”

 “I was going to invite you to lunch. When you were not at your normal place of occupancy at 13:00 hours I inquired. Your incident during performance review spread rapidly through campus.”

 “Just fucking great.” Kirk lifted himself off the ground into a sitting position and grabbed the bottle of water. After chugging half its contents, he tilted his head in confusion. “So you find out where I am, walk all the way out here, and run with me while smoking cigarettes to do what, exactly?”

 “I understand that humans, when they are mutually seeing each other, like to feel as the other does. There are some…similarities on Vulcan. I also understand humans like,” he paused to find the word a classmate told him about the other day, “seduction.”

 “You thought you could seduce me while running with a cigarette in hand? Spock, this isn’t the 1950s! I am a complex person with various feelings and a dynamic personality! You can’t just come over here and sway me with your…your…”

 Spock had wiped away a bead of sweat on his forehead and took a drink from the water bottle. “Forgive me, I was still listening. I cannot come over here and sway you with what?”

 Kirk pulled out some blades of grass. He looked right into Spock’s eyes. “Has anyone ever told you how beautiful you are?”

 Normally Spock would have casually lifted his brows, hardly expressing anything more to a human other than interest in the ‘why’s and ‘how’s. But he tilted his head, and his face contorted into a very blatant expression of confusion.

 “I do not understand.”

 Kirk held Spock’s hands in his lap. The strange feeling appeared yet again, as it did every time he took hold of them. “You must know about aesthetics. Something that’s pleasing. You’re aesthetically pleasing, but-but it’s more than that, Spock. It’s one thing to appreciate aesthetic, and then it’s entirely different when there’s something--SomeONE--so beautiful that just makes every kind of emotion bubble up inside. It’s hard to explain. Even to someone who doesn’t repress their emotions.”

 What Kirk didn’t know was that Spock could at least feel a surge of warmth emanating from the human. Perhaps Spock needed to explain exactly what happens when they hold hands.


	5. Dinner

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kirk learns a little something about one of his girlfriends.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The one thing I always enjoyed about AOS were the Academy uniforms. In Into Darkness, seeing Spock in a hat was rather glorious. So I decided to go a little farther. Just look up the Naval Academy's Parade Uniform. 
> 
> I must also apologize for some slight crackiness. I think I was channeling The Animated Series for a few paragraphs.

Kirk recovered enough to make it to his last class of the day. Ethics and Morals was simple yet demanding. He enjoyed having discussions, but the effort he always put into his thoughts left him mentally exhausted. After this morning, he wasn’t sure if he would have the energy to make it back home, let alone go out later for dinner.

 He didn’t even have the energy to speak up. His thoughts whirled around what happened between himself and Spock. Their walk back to the inner campus was quieter than usual. Spock looked like he was in deep concentration and he felt that if he spoke, it would be intrusive.

  _I hope I didn’t offend him somehow. Talk about a fucking culture shock. I end up seeing a guy who doesn’t even understand beauty the way I see it. We haven’t even done anything more than kiss, and that’s just chastely on the lips. With any other person I’d already have them in my book. So what is it about Spock?_

_Do I actually care? Not that I don’t care about anyone I see. But I’m starting to think that I really just want to care for him. I want to hold him and tell him everything is alright. I’ve never felt this way about anyone. Normally I just want to mess around, but for Spock? I could wait an eternity for him._

_Then what the fuck should I do? Call up the three others and tell them it’s off? I committed to them, didn’t I? I told them my situation, they told me theirs and then we agreed. And they’re all beautiful. They’re all gorgeous. So what about Spock? What makes his stupid Vulcan ass so much better? If I commit to him as well, with all my heart and feelings intact, I feel as though I shouldn’t have anyone else._

_Does Spock even care?_

 “James? James?” Professor Anberlyne was staring at him. She had her brow raised expecting an answer. “Are you okay, you haven’t spoken at all.”

 “Er, just wrestling with my own moral issues. Sorry.”

 “Perhaps you could pose your problem to the class to discuss.”

  _Oh. No. Hell fucking no._

“Nah, I’m okay. Really. I’m sorry for being a distraction.” He looked around at the twenty other people sitting in the room. Some of them looked bored out of their minds and others looked genuinely displeased Kirk turned down the offer. There were some psychologist students in the class after all.

  _Ethically, I need to tell them about Spock. Ethically I need to figure out if Spock would care. Yeah he said it’s not right to judge based on arbitrary facts. But theory is different from reality. What would a jealous Vulcan even look like?_

_Morally, I’m doing nothing wrong. As long as I treat everyone with respect. Which I do! I go out of my way to make sure they’re all respected. This is such a stupid conversation I’m having with myself. Why do I need convincing? What exactly am I convincing myself of?_

He stayed after class was dismissed and waited for the last of his classmates to exit the room. Kirk approached the podium at the front and sighed in relief.

 “Leslie, I’m so sorry about class today.”

 She looked up from her schedule, her green eyes peering through her eyelashes. “It won’t cancel dinner tonight, will it?”

 “What? No, not at all!” He laughed nervously and rubbed the back of his neck. “The one time our schedules haven’t conflicted in weeks, I’m totally not gonna cancel on you.”

 “Well that’s good,” she packed up her bag and gracefully rounded the podium to link her arm with his. “I was thinking we could go to that new place downtown.”

 They walked out of the building. The air was getting chillier; the sun was beginning to set. The two walked around aimlessly, their arms linked.

 “The dingy one, or the fancy one?”

 “James Kirk, for once I want to be a lady and for once I want to see that tight little ass of yours in dress blues before I rip them off.”

 He liked the proposition, but it also posed a few issues.  “Leslie, I still haven’t gotten around to even getting that dress uniform, I mean what the hell would I need it for?”

Kirk did have a point. As a first year the likelihood of wearing a dress uniform was nil. They didn’t start working on formal occasions until second year when their discipline was nailed down.

 Leslie looked up at him and started walking faster. “Then I guess we better get to the workshop before they close. I’m sure they’ll have your measurements on file.”

 “See, this is why we hook up. Your determination is arousing.”

 “No one is going to deny me your ass in those pants, James. No one. If I have to, I’ll use my security clearance.”

 “You have security clearance? I thought they didn’t hand those out to grads all willy-nilly.”

 She stopped abruptly, forcing Kirk to lose his balance. If Leslie wasn’t hanging on to his arm, he may have well fallen flat on his face. Her eyes were fiery and the corner of her mouth twitched with hunger. She grabbed Kirk’s genitals.

 “De-fucking-termined.”

\----

They made it to the workshop in time and were the last appointment of the day. Unfortunately, Kirk’s file was corrupted, so they had to take his measurements again. He was standing in the middle of the room under a grid of blue lights. At least they let him keep his underwear on, to the disappointment of Leslie.

 She was sitting comfortably on one of the leather chairs that lined the measuring room. Even when she answered texts, she didn’t take an eye off him.

 “You know James. You are going to look so handsome. I might even have to get a hologram of you.”

 He blushed. “You have two of me already and isn’t one of them me just lying next to a replicator drunk as fuck?”

 Laughing, she inched forward on the chair, watching the lasers glide along every curve of Kirk’s body. “I remember that night so fondly. You got food poisoning too.”

 “That was the worst night of my life, and you just kept taking pictures!”

 “I’m a sadist, you know that.”

 One of the attendants motioned that it was okay to step down from the measurer’s pedestal and redress. Kirk quickly put on his pants. Despite having copulated multiple times with Leslie and seeing her naked in full on florescent lighting, he felt strangely vulnerable. He tugged on his undershirt and sat next to her.

 “And yet you’re the ethics and morals professor, are you corrupting all of us?”

 “No, just you.” She bit his bottom lip before kissing him, thrusting her tongue in his mouth.

\---

Kirk fumbled with all the belongings in his arms. He had his book bag, his various electronic devices, and his newly tailored dress uniform.  He stood at the door of the old-fashioned San Francisco house he shared with Bones, trying to remember where he stashed his key.

 “Did I lose that stupid thing again,” he growled in frustration. He was already running behind schedule. After he and Leslie parted ways to get dressed up for their dinner date, Kirk ran into his socioeconomics professor who wanted to know exactly why he chose a classical musician like Nicki Minaj as a source. That conversation put him twenty minutes behind his intended arrival home.

 “Bones! Open up,” he yelled as he kicked the door with his foot.

 Moments later, Bones opened the door. He was wide-eyed, and still wearing his lab coat. “Good, you’re home. I need you.” He grabbed Kirk by the collar and pulled him inside.

 The living room was an absolute mess. There was paper, yes ACTUAL paper, littering the floor and on just about every surface in the room. Twine was hung from the ceiling, with clothes line pins holding up sheets of semi-translucent dark paper. Bones had four tablets running diagnostics, all perched against stacks of books on the dinning room table.

 “Leonard, what the fuck.”

 “I’m running a test. I need you to stand still.”

 “And do what!?”

 “I’m going to take an x-ray.” He held up a small device that emanated the x-rays. Kirk was amazed he found a working device. They were defunct by 100 years.

 “Don’t point that thing at me!” Kirk ducked and ran to the stairs. “Find someone else!”

 Bones walked over to the stairway, which was now deserted. He called up to the second floor. “Oh come on, Jim! You’re my last hope! I just need to see if your body deteriorates even a little bit when exposed to this thing!”

 Kirk shut his bedroom door and carefully laid down his uniform on the back of his desk chair. He dropped the rest of his belongings on the floor, only adding to the mess of trinkets and clothes strung about. When he collapsed onto his bed and caught his breath he knew one thing was certain: he ran far too much today.

 “What the hell even was today,” he asked aloud. “Fuckshit Kernalis, Spock, Leslie. Torment of the body, torment of the mind, torment of the libido.”

 The sharp pain in his back was trying so hard to will him to stay in bed. If he wasn’t so adamant about keeping commitments he would have called Leslie to reschedule.

 His back protested with every twist and bend it took to get out of bed and out of his clothes. He carefully opened the bag to reveal the fabric of the uniform. Unlike every day wear at the academy, each dress uniform was measured precisely and then tailored to fit the unique bending and all around movement each cadet made. It was guaranteed to flatter the cadet at all times, no matter how compromising a position they were in.

  _Maybe Starfleet is highly aware of how many of their officer candidates have been passed out drunk on the floor of some dive bar. How thoughtful._

The fabric was some of the best Kirk ever felt. He traced the buttons and the insignias on the belt buckle. It looked so plain before him, but he was excited to know that it wouldn’t be long before he was fumbling over badges and where to pin them correctly.

 It didn’t hit until he was standing in the bathroom fixing his hair. He stopped and looked at himself in the mirror with so much intensity, he thought the glass would break.

  _I’m in Starfleet. I’m in the command track. I’m looking at my fucking future._

Kirk walked back downstairs, dawning his cap. He hoped to hell Bones wasn’t still intent on shooting his body full of x-rays. Perhaps, the uniform would catch him off guard.

 “Don’t wear the hat inside, idiot.”

 “Excuse me?”

Bones had the x-ray instrument pointed at his own head, and he was watching the readings come up from the tricorder. “Since you’re going formal, you need to at least know not to wear the hat indoors, especially if you’re going to that stupid admiral’s dinner.”

 Kirk took off the hat. “Bones, what are you talking about?”

 He looked up from his readings and set the x-ray instrument on the table. “No one gets that fancy for the hell of it. There’s some stupid high admiral dinner thing downtown. A bunch of the old dying guys want to relive their glory so they’re going to circlejerk it.”

 Is that why Leslie was so intent on going to this new place downtown? Of course, she was a very determined, very horny graduate student with the rank of lieutenant. Maybe if she got in a good word with her superiors, she’d step up her game in bed.

 Kirk heard the familiar tone ringing from his phone. “Leslie, just meet me at my place. I’m set to go.”

 Bones shook his head. “That’s the crazy professor one, right?”

 “She’s not crazy, but yeah. The professor.”

 “How did you meet her again?”

 “It was right after we first got into town. I was waiting in line for something and she was in front of me. We struck up a conversation. I think what got me was her eyes.” Kirk took a seat next to Bones at the table. It would take Leslie about ten minutes to get to the house.

 “Right. She does that weird eye thing. The last time she was here, they turned red and I thought she was going to envelop my soul. What species is she exactly?”

 Laughing nervously, he cracked his knuckles, “I dunno, actually. The closest we ever got was that she said I could call her a ‘she’ ‘cause it was ‘close enough’ and then she practically shoved her tongue down my throat. When she gets going it’s hard to stop.”

 “So? Is it close enough?”

 Kirk nodded, thinking about just how close enough it was. “Yeah. It’s workable.”

 ---

 The restaurant was dimly lit with lights that hung down from the high ceiling. The entrance was a long corridor filled with artwork from the local talent. It opened up into a wide space of tables blanketing the marble floor. To the left of the entrance was a grand staircase leading up to the second and third floors which hung over the main area. Freshly cut bamboo lined the walls.

A lengthy bar lined the right of the main sitting area, where sushi chefs and mixologists tended to their respective crafts. A large flame rose high above the head chef and the meals he was preparing.

 This particular restaurant treated the cooks like entertainment. They were working where everyone could watch. San Francisco was one of the few lager cities that revolted against the push for replicators in every home. They of course weren’t obsolete in the city, but the culture that thrived for centuries in the city was held together by each community sharing their best dishes and other forms of commerce. Cooking was treated like an art form, and residents of San Francisco did not want to see the art die.

 They walked through the crowd of civilians and Starfleet members sharing stories of valor and humor and pain. Old friends were laughing and hugging. Reunions were hard to ignore. Finally, they sat down at a table on the second floor overlooking the cooking stage. Kirk continued to watch officers parade around in their uniforms, showing off their medals.

 

 He had no idea who the majority of these people were. Of course he’d see them walk in and out of administrative buildings all the time, but his lack of caring kept him from asking Leslie anything about them.

 At least he had food, and at least the bartender poured strong.

 Their waitress brought over a third round of drinks for Kirk and Leslie; a Long Island for Leslie, and something bright red and glittering in an obnoxious swirled flute-like glass.

 “What the hell is that,” Leslie asked trying to figure out how to drink from it. She moved her head trying to take in all its swirling angles. “It looks like a freaking cornucopia on steroids.”

 “I have no idea what it is, but it’s cool looking! It’s called a Red Tentacle. I saw it on the thingy and I was like, I GOTTA HAVE THAT.”

 Leslie laughed. “The thingy, James? And since when did you become a lightweight?”

 He pouted and folded his arms across his chest. “The MENU. And I’ll have you know I barely ate anything today. You can blame that rancid piece of shit Kernalis for making me skip lunch.”

 She watched Kirk poke around the tangled glass with a straw, trying to figure out where to put the damn thing. Even if he was a bit of a punk and even if he was known as a delinquent on the south side of town, she was enamored with how innocent he still was. Maybe that’s why she enjoyed hanging out with him. He was a first-year student after all. She loved hearing him tell stories about his classes and the new discoveries he made through out the bay area. He reminded her of herself when she first came to Earth. Leslie enjoyed his presence.

And compared to her other relationships, this was the more normal of them all.

An average relationship with Leslie was focused solely on sex. The only outside conversation she had with her counterparts were texts, relating schedule information. It wasn’t the best kind of foreplay, but it let her get what she needed.

With James Kirk, this relationship resembled a lot of what she studied before travelling to Earth. The dates, the flirting, the seducing. Maybe she was starting to lose control, something she’d have to fix as her control was part of a tentative agreement with her, Starfleet, and The Federation.

“AHA!” Kirk stabbed the straw in the correct hole of his drink. “I found you, motherfucker!”

The exclamation caught the attention of a commanding officer.

Leslie stood to her feet, her dress whipping around her legs with her sudden movement. “Officer Derinkus, sir! It’s lovely to see you again!”

Derinkus nodded at her and took a swig of his whiskey. He then peered over at Kirk who was staring up at him quite dumbly, with his straw still tightly gripped in his fist.

 Kirk finally realized what Derinkus was waiting for. He stood up straight and saluted, the straw still in his hand. He laughed in embarrassment and threw the straw behind him we he saw Derinkus’s expecting stare transform into one of astonishment.

 “Sir,” his voice cracked, “it’s a pleasure to meet you.”

  _Should it? I have no fucking clue who you are._

“Officer Anberlyne, I think you might need to teach your friend here a little more respect.”

  _Wow, way to be a rude asshole._

“Oh, don’t worry! Sir, this is Cadet Kirk. He’s only a first-year, so he’s pretty far in the way of knowing all the formalities. Them being so intricate for different people in different settings, you know.” She batted her eyes, they were changing from her normal green to a cyan.

 “Is that so,” he took another drink. “My apologies, cadet. Officer Anberlyne here is a marvelous instructor. You’ll learn a lot from her.”

 “Yes, sir.” Kirk watched as Leslie grabbed her drink and wrapped an arm around Derinkus’s waist.

 “Give me five minutes,” she said to both of them and then turned her attention to the senior officer. “I need to discuss some things with you.”

 Kirk sat back down and grabbed another straw so he could guzzle down the drink in front of him. He felt only slightly betrayed, but he didn’t understand why. On nearly every outing she went off with someone and Kirk just continued on his own merry way until the two hooked up again after a couple hours.

But tonight he sulked. He sulked far into his drink when five minutes passed, and when he finished off his shrimp tempura.

 “She is a succubus.”

 “Impeccable timing, Spock.” He didn’t bother to look at him.

 “Yes, I tend to appear in your life at convenient times. I will repeat myself. Leslie Anberlyne is a succubus.”

 “I thought they were only in fairy tales.”

 “Jim, you must understand by now that the human’s imagination can give to truths in our universe. Thus one of the reasons why Starfleet exists.”

 Kirk finally looked at Spock. It was what he feared. The Vulcan was wearing his own tailored uniform. It differed from his own in that he had a single stripe on each sleeve indicating his rank, and the Vulcan IDIC on the left breast of his jacket. He was still wearing his white gloves, and tucked neatly under his arm was his hat.

 “Why are you telling me this? You jealous?”

 He tilted his head. “Jealousy is not something Vulcans feel. I am telling you because she has not been entirely truthful to you in the matter. You deserve to be told the truth.”

 For a Vulcan, Kirk considered this to be the closest Spock would ever get to telling him that he meant a lot. It was a nice simple feeling to take away from that last statement, and it was something he would carry with him until Spock ever said something else along the same lines.

 “So, okay. She’s a succubus. That’s fine with me. How do you know?”

 “In our first year together, she tried to seduce me. I complied to a singular encounter because I did not know of a species whose eyes changed color the way hers did.”

 Kirk laughed. “Spock, is everything a science experiment to you?”

 “No. Not everything is an experiment to me. For example, yourself.”

 Spock gave Kirk a low gratuitous bow before he left the table.

 The conversation with Spock made Kirk feel a lot better than before. He was grinning like an idiot while eating his fried ice cream, replaying Spock’s last words over and over again.

  _He likes me. He really fucking actually totally likes me!_

Leslie returned to her seat ten minutes later with a wide grin. “I’m so sorry for that, James. I got rather distracted with everyone being here and all. And you know they’re all pretty drunk right now so it was a perfect time to negotiate a promotion!”

 “Promotion to what?”

 “Oh it would be so exciting! I’d serve as a mentor on a starship!”

 Kirk’s new-found knowledge made it hard to believe that.

 “Leslie, when were you gonna tell me that you’re a succubus?”

 She laughed and then realized how serious he truly was. “Well—I—I was going to say something but it never came up.”

 “You know, it comes up a lot when I’m with you,” he deadpanned.

 “Okay, so I didn’t tell you. And it shouldn’t matter! I haven’t hurt you or anyone else I’ve been with; I make sure of that. So don’t worry, James. You’re in no danger around me, unless we role play it.”

 “C-can we role play that tonight?”

 Leslie licked her lips, “why my precious damsel, of course.”


	6. Morning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bones and Spock spend some time together. Jim and Spock make it officially official.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I felt like I needed to remedy the lack of Bones yelling at Spock for things, and I wanted to give more of a snippet into home life at the McCoy/Kirk household.

At 5:30 in the morning, Leonard McCoy had far better things to do than trying to entertain a Vulcan standing in his kitchen. He could have been brushing his teeth, doing last minute homework, or reading up on the latest medical journals. But alas, he was standing next to Spock who was staring out their kitchen window that looked over the bay. The Golden Gate Bridge was lit up and serene as ever, reflecting down on the water below.

“Just out of pure curiosity, why are you here? Why are you here so early in the morning?”

“I am here waiting for Officer Anberlyne.”

McCoy rested his head in his palm. Supposedly, he was logical. Supposedly, he was supposed to be straight as an arrow. Supposedly, this Vulcan was supposed to be in his own bedroom and not in his kitchen.

“Well, I’m sorry to disappoint you, but you’re going to have to wait your turn,” McCoy sauntered to the other end of the kitchen to make some coffee. “She’s busy at the moment.”

Spock watched his host pour beans onto a scale so he can then pour them into a hand grinder. It was intriguing since there was really no need at all to be so diligent, when there was a replicator right in the room.

“I am aware. But I find it most beneficial to catch her off guard. So I want to be here when she is about to leave.”

“Ambushing her? For what,” McCoy grinned. He thought he could full well play a part in this.

“I find it logical to protect Jim from her.”

The kitchen filled with silence again as McCoy stopped grinding the coffee beans. “Since when did you want to protect Jim? Last time I saw you, you wanted to report the guy for something incredibly stupid.”

“I wanted to test what kind of character he has,” Spock leaned over the counter and stared at the hand-grinder. “May I? I may be able to grind more consistently than you.”

McCoy slid the container over to Spock who worked out an equation determining how much force he should use. He wondered if Spock had ever made coffee in his life, let alone tasted it.

“So you threatened him with an infraction. Okay, then what? You started to make out?”

“Precisely. Did he tell you?”

He gaped at the Vulcan. Every time he tried to speak nothing came to mind. It took a few moments to regain focus. “No, he didn’t tell me! I’m a doctor, not some psychologist he confides in! What the-when the hell did that happen?”

“A week after I encountered him at the infirmary.” Spock slid the container of grounds back over to McCoy who grumbled.

There was a small stand sitting against the wall that McCoy pulled out into full view. He flipped over the two copper v60 pour-over cups and set them in their proper place. Spock leaned in closer inspecting the wooden stand. It resembled shelving, only it had holes in the second shelf to accommodate the two v60s.

“Would you like a cup?”

“Yes, I have never had coffee made this way before.”

McCoy made use of the replicator only for a kettle of hot water. He grabbed two mugs and placed them on the first shelf, then with the most care only a doctor’s hands could give, he properly folded the filters in the two cups and measured the right amount of grounds for each.

“Listen up science guy. This is a pour-over. Measuring is important here. You mess up how many grounds there are, you get a shitty cup. You mess up the temperature of the water, you get a shitty cup. You mess up the coarseness of the grounds, you get a shitty cup. But most importantly, if you don’t watch how much water you’re pouring-“

“Then the outcome is a shitty cup of coffee,” Spock folded his arms. “I see no reason for you to go through all this trouble for one drink.”

“Like I see no reason for you to be in my kitchen at five in the morning, but I digress. I enjoy this because it reminds me of home. When I was a kid, my mother nearly made everything from scratch.”

The brown liquid slowly filled the mugs. McCoy watched as his hard work pay off. “Since I’m making coffee for you, and since you’re making out with my friend, I might as well ask you your name.”

“My name is Spock.”

“Leonard McCoy.”

McCoy handed him a mug of coffee and gestured for the Vulcan to follow him into the dining room. “Logically, this is a pristine location to ambush that chick. I don’t like her, Spock. I will do anything you ask to help.”

Spock sipped his coffee. It was wonderfully sweet, and not at all bitter. He must learn this method for himself. He might have been spending too many credits at coffee shops lately.

“I need you to validate what I will say to her, if the occasion arises. I must warn you, she is a succubus. Or rather her species are like them. They can conform to whatever gender constructs a society has; whatever benefits them. They feed off of sexual contact.”

“I know what a succubus is,” he scowled. “So that’s why her eyes change colors?”

“They reflect mood, or their transformative properties. They are not humanoid in origin.”

“And Jim is fucking one. I mean, good on him he’s making friends, but why the hell is there one in Starfleet?”

“Your statement, Leonard, is insensitive. She has not harmed anyone. When she feeds off sexual contact, there is no harm to her subject. They only see the effects of fatigue. I do not know exactly why she is in Starfleet, but her knowledge only benefits us.”

McCoy’s fingers tapped on his mug. “But then why do you want to protect Jim from her?”

Why did he want to protect Kirk from this woman? Was it simply to guard a potential of problems for him? Or maybe he was constantly remembering the warm gentle burning of Kirk’s aura every time he held his hand.

“I do not want him to experience her negative attitude.”

The two spent an hour discussing scientific analysis. McCoy nearly yelled in frustration every time Spock dismissed any kind of emotion that was scientifically proven to have helped society progress in the way of technology. Spock only conceded when he admitted there were times when emotions were logical, but in fact they were based in reason, and not solely on the irrational sway of one’s feelings.

McCoy was about to pull up another study on the computer when Leslie waltzed down the stairs.

“Leonard! I hope we didn’t wake-“ she snapped her mouth shut, eyes locked on Spock.

“Officer Anberlyne,” Spock politely acknowledged her presence.

“Vulcan,” she spat, baring her teeth.

“Spock, her eyes are going red,” McCoy warned, his voice wavering.

Leslie glared at McCoy, that same soul-enveloping stare he encountered before. She threw her arm out and pointed at Spock. “What the hell is THAT doing here?”

“HE is drinking coffee because he’s a guest in MY house, you red-eyed dingbat.”

Spock took the opportunity McCoy gave him and approached her. He circled her, watching every little twitch her muscles made. Leslie felt the heat on his breath as he leaned in to whisper in her ear.

“Still angry you could not take anything from me? Angry you found a species that has no effect?”

She snapped her head to the side, her eyes red, her teeth starting to point. “Get away from me.”

His cool, stoic demeanor was too much for her. Spock continued to stare right into her eyes, his face showed nothing but a blank slate. “Stay away from James Kirk.”

“Or what?”

McCoy thought the house was going to combust from all the tension in the room. There was a gas leak, and if McCoy didn’t say anything, a match would drop and they’d be dead. He got up from the table and folded his arms.

“You’re dating one of your current students. I could write you up for that. Now get out of my house.”

Leslie shoved Spock out of the way and slammed the door on her way out.

“You have great timing Leonard.”

“I was getting annoyed with you both and your staring contest.” He went back to his cup of coffee. Realizing Spock was still standing near the door, he sighed. “She DOES knock him out. Jim won’t be up until ten, most likely. So if you want to leave and come back for him.”

Spock looked at the door then towards the stairs. He nodded, “I would like to stay if you do not mind.”

“No I wouldn’t, but if you’re going to stay, we’re going to have some fun.”

 

The sun’s rays finally made it to Kirk’s bedroom. Warmth covered him like a blanket. He was sprawled out on his bed, every muscle relaxed. Birds were chirping away, and the low hum of hover cars added to his contentment with the world as it was in this very moment. Everything was good, it didn’t need to change.

If it wasn’t for the class he had at 12:00, he would have chosen to stay in bed. He wouldn’t have to get a clean pair of boxers or smooth out the wrinkles in his uniform, or find something appetizing for breakfast.

He decided he might as well just replicate French toast and a glass of orange juice, even after the dinner he had the night before would turn him off to replicated food for a few weeks. It just wasn’t the same.

The stairs creaked with every step, he loved that noise. The floorboards were cool under his feet. He supposed Bones had already left for the day, busy writing up records or doing homework in a better studying environment. Bones being gone meant he could actually eat on the sofa, instead of complying with a pointless rule.

Kirk brought his breakfast into the living room. He stopped, almost dropping his glass when he saw Spock and Bones sitting on opposite sides of the coffee table, focusing intently on a tower of blocks.

Bones held his hand up waiting to make a move, it waivered in the air. Should he move the block at the very bottom or play it safe and move one from the near top? Spock had his index fingers pressed to his lips in his own deep contemplation. What move was Bones going to make, and what move would make him fail this game?

The doctor nudged the little block out of the way, but the tip of his pinky finger knocked the tower down.

“Jenga,” Spock sat up straight, no longer needing to contemplate his move.

“God damn it, Spock. You’re supposed to yell it! JENGA!”

“I do not understand why I need to yell when clearly there is no point in yelling.”

“You have to yell it, Spock. It’s in the rules.”

Spock grabbed a tablet and started tapping on the screen. “There is no official rule saying I even have to say ‘Jenga’ when the tower falls.”

“IT’S A COMMON RULE YOU POINTY EARED MORON!”

“What do my ears have to do with your being wrong?”

“EVERYTHING!”

Kirk cleared his throat. The two looked up from their game, McCoy rolling his eyes. “You were planning to eat on the sofa again weren’t you?”

He blushed, “wha-no! Of course not! I’ve never eaten on the sofa in my LIFE.”

“Liar,” McCoy leaned back against the chair he was sitting in front of. “Spock, your boyfriend is a liar.”

Kirk sat between them, setting his dishes on the coffee table. “Bones, he’s not my boyfriend.”

“Your boyfriend says differently.”

He turned to Spock who was more still than ever. “Spock?”

“I am unsure why you want to hide this from Leonard.”

Bones tilted his head acknowledging Spock’s point. “Yeah Jim, why do you want to hide your beautiful budding relationship with this Vulcan, here?”

Kirk choked on his orange juice. “D-don’t phrase it like that!”

Spock’s eyes softened. Normally they evoked a never-ending equation working in his brain, and ultimately never-ending questions. They were always striking, harsh on everything he looked at.

“How should it be phrased then,” his voice low and quiet, he looked away from Kirk and focused his attention on the Jenga blocks covering the table.

Kirk stammered. How could he even answer that? He couldn’t even explain to himself how the term “relationship” freaked him out. There was more to this particular relationship than physical lust, and that terrified the hell out of him.

“I-don’t really know.”

Spock glanced up at the chronometer. “I am late for an appointment. I will see you both later.”

Bones smacked Kirk on the shoulder after Spock quietly left the house. “I should punt you out the window.”

Kirk scrambled to the door, he didn’t care if he was still in his pajamas or if he was barefoot. He couldn’t let Spock spend the rest of the day wondering.

“SPOCK!” He stood at the head of the stairs, searching for that familiar undercut of black hair amidst his own anxiety. Kirk ran after the Vulcan who was walking along the sidewalk, heading away from campus. A cigarette in hand, his head hung low.

The sudden surge of warmth overwhelmed Spock when their hands made contact. He instinctively pulled back.

“Spock, I’m sorry,” Kirk grabbed his hand again. “It’s hard for me. This whole…thing.”

“It is difficult for me to process this ‘thing’ as well,” Spock stared at their hands. He subtly moved to intertwine their fingers. The warmth was too precious not to have.

“I asked if I could keep kissing you. You said yes. And I told you that you’re beautiful. And I may or may not dream about you,” Kirk sighed, “I would like to keep kissing you, but I’d also like to hang out with you, and I’d like to make sure you do your homework and grade papers and tests and I’d really like to make sure you’re okay, and uh...all that domestic shit.”

Kirk squeezed Spock’s hand, which made both their breaths hitch.

“I think the term is ‘boyfriend,’” Spock replied.

“Yup,” Kirk’s voice cracked in embarrassment. “Spock I want to be your boyfriend!”

They were already holding hands. Spock could already feel his presence within him. He had already confronted one of Kirk’s lovers. It was completely logical to enter an official relationship with a human male due to his actions. It was completely logical, because now he would fully be able to test his rationale with another temptation.

But lingering in the back of his mind, Spock had to admit he liked Jim Kirk for no logical reason at all.

“That is a decision I would like to partake in.”


	7. Physiology and Telepathy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Spock and Kirk end up having a heart to heart.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can really only say that there are so many drawing opportunities in this chapter. This fic should also be regularly updated on Friday nights -7:00 GMT.

“Mmmmm Spock, why do you have such fluffy blankets?”

Kirk buried his face in the black fibers. Thoroughly enjoying the sensation, he wrapped up and threw himself next to Spock on his bed. The action didn’t phase Spock. He was staring diligently out the window.

“They were a parting gift from my mother.”

“Huh,” Kirk leaned on Spock’s arm. “I didn’t know Vulcans gave gifts.”

“Vulcans do not partake in gift giving; my mother is not of Vulcan.”

He felt Spock tense up. Kirk shouldn’t press any farther, but he was curious. One last question couldn’t hurt, and if it did, he’d make sure to profusely apologize.

“Where’s your mom from?”

“She is of Earth.”

_He’s half human. So he has to have some feelings and if he does that means he can like me like a human. But it seems like he tries so hard to be distant. I don’t wanna be distant from him._

Kirk unwrapped himself from his fuzzy cocoon and draped the black fabric around them both. He took Spock’s hand in his, to which the Vulcan winced and cleared his throat.

“Did I do something wrong?”

Spock tilted his head to look at Kirk. The worry in Kirk’s eyes came eerily close to the worry his own mother shows. It was now a convenient time to tell Kirk what really happens when they hold hands. The warmth, the urge to kiss him for prolonged periods of time, the absence of loneliness he felt his entire life. All gone to something so humanly mundane.

“I must be truthful with you. I have been trying to find a proper way to introduce you to some nomenclature. Right now is opportune, especially with your inquiry. That is in fact why I asked you to come over.”

“Nomen-vocabulary! Oh come on Spock, I don’t want a study session! I want stupid sappy cuddle time with my boyfriend. Geez, way to ruin my hopes and dreams.” He folded his arms and pouted quite exaggeratedly.

If Spock hadn’t spent an extraordinarily large amount of time with Kirk over the past two weeks, he would have thought the human was being serious. The first time Spock encountered Kirk’s wildly outrageous reactions, he consulted Bones who told him that “Jim likes to whine about stupid things and use sarcasm to his advantage.” So Spock then paid close attention, and noticed the nuances between a playful and truly upset Kirk.

“I promise not to test you, Jim. But this is necessary if we want to continue this kind of relationship. In the larger scope of things, I believe this will benefit us.”

“So what do you want to tell me first?”

“Vulcans are telepath-“

“YOU CAN READ MY THOUGHTS,” Kirk leaned away, “how much do you know!?”

Spock held up his right hand. “Touch telepathy, Jim. I cannot know your thoughts solely by staring at you. However,” he gently grabbed Kirk’s forearm and raised his hand to his own, “when you take my hand in yours,” he slowly clasped his hand around Kirk’s, “I feel your warmth. I feel your aura. I feel you within me, like a low flame smoldering in the ash.”

The grip around Kirk’s hand loosened, eventually his hand remained still in the space between them. “Whenever I hold your hand—It doesn’t hurt you?”

“No. You are the only person who could not violate me in this manner. However, it does render me speechless for a few moments.” He grabbed Kirk’s hand again, this time more tenderly. “This,” he squeezed, “is more like this,” he leaned in and pressed his lips against Kirk’s.  

He murmured, “kiss with your hands…do you kiss like humans on Vulcan?”

Spock nudged Kirk’s mouth open. He gently bit at Kirk’s bottom lip, and then slipped his tongue into his mouth. The titanium end on Spock’s jewelry hit Kirk’s bottom teeth, he pulled away quickly as the noise of the contact alarmed him.

“I apologize.”

Kirk chuckled. “I think you gotta get used to that thing some more.”

“I will have to practice. Vulcans do not kiss like humans. I am sure you find it more gratifying to kiss me on the lips than holding my hand, as I find it more gratifying to hold your hand than kiss you on the lips. Biologically speaking of course, because I find your human kissing most fascinating.” 

“That’s great! Because I like holding your hand. It’s like that Beatles song. I think you’d enjoy that one.”

Kirk leaned against Spock once more, smiling about his new found knowledge. It made perfect sense why two days ago Spock asked him to stop holding his hand under the table during class. The poor guy couldn’t concentrate.

The two sat quietly merely enjoying each other’s company. Or rather, Kirk enjoyed the moment while Spock told himself that it was illogical to say anything, because talking meant he couldn’t solely concentrate on Kirk’s head resting against his arm or the way Kirk breathed and how the rise and fall of his diaphragm slightly made Kirk’s body move against his own.

No, it was simply illogical to break this silence.

“But can you read my thoughts?”

Spock’s meditation brought on by Kirk’s breathing broke. He pursed his lips contemplating if he should explain to this human another more sensitive topic. But he told himself he was going to be truthful, and Vulcans don’t lie.

99.998 percent of the time.

“I can only read your thoughts if you let me.”

“Well, go on. You can read my thoughts. I give you permission.” Kirk straightened up expecting an instantaneous reading of his mind. When Spock tilted his head in return, Kirk slumped.

“What?”

There was a twitch at the corner of Spock’s mouth.

_Jesus, is he smirking at me!?_

“It does not work like that.”

“But we’re touching! We’re touching right now. My thigh next to yours.”

“Jim, I must touch your mind to read your thoughts. And even then it is,” he paused to consider the appropriate word, “an intense process.”

Kirk grumbled and grabbed Spock’s wrists, placing the Vulcan’s hands on the top of his head. “You’re touching my mind now, so read ‘em.”

Spock was baffled. No logic could possibly dictate how badly Kirk wanted his thoughts read. No illogical fallacy could even describe why he was now sitting on his bed with his hands on top of Kirk’s head. Kirk was just learning about Vulcan and the culture and the intimacy, but how could he want something so intrusive without knowing anything about it?

“The only thing I am learning Jim, is how soft your hair is. I apologize, but that is still not how it works.” Spock lifted his hands away from Kirk’s head. “There are certain points on your face that would let me meld my mind with your mind.”

“Meld,” Kirk questioned. He grabbed the blanket and threw it to the other end of the bed. He sat right in front of Spock. “So like a joining. We’d become one?”

“That is correct. I would know your thoughts, and you would know mine. Of course, I am understating the intricacies involved as well as a multitude of other factors.” He took Kirk’s hand and placed his fingers on his own face. “These are the meld points. If I were to do this to you, we would be in a most intimate situation.”

Kirk leaned in, almost touching his nose to Spock’s. “So?”

“I am not comfortable performing that on you. There is still much for you to learn about myself, and I have much to learn about you.”

“But if we melded then we could learn that stuff in no time!”

Spock took Kirk’s hand and closed his eyes. He let the fire of Kirk’s passion burn through his own body. It tingled through his limbs and lingered at the center of his heart. He let his shields down, to gauge just how badly Kirk yearned for a new kind of intimacy, and it overtook him. Kirk’s passion felt like it was Spock’s own.

“I understand you are used to precarious and lustful relationships.” He fell onto his back, pulling Kirk on top of him. “It is more logical to drag this relationship out. Logical to explore. Logical to learn. I must also understand how the genes of two people can produce such an aesthetic that makes me question my own understanding of what aesthetic is supposed to convey.”

Kirk’s entire face was red-hot in embarrassment. First of all, only Spock could make a compliment like that, but also this was the first time Kirk lied on top of him. It was the first time he sat up and straddled the Vulcan maneuvering so delicately because the feeling in his groin was so perfectly satisfying. It was the first time he slid his fingers down Spock’s chest, taking in the curve of his pectoral muscles and the strength of his sternum. His first exploration of Spock’s collar bone with his mouth; his first taste of Vulcan skin; his first look at Spock who was wrapped up in complete pleasure.

_I’m witnessing something that no one is going to ever see. That cool, calm, collected Vulcan named Spock, is completely at my mercy. He’s lying under me, and I’m getting all grab-happy, and he’s got his eyes closed. He’s enjoying this. I can plainly see it on his face._

_But there’s something else, and it’s not quite right._

“Spock,” his voice barely higher than a whisper, “look at me.”

He opened his eyes, revealing an entirely different man hovering over him. There wasn’t a hint of immaturity that Kirk always seemed to plaster across his face. He radiated his own kind of stoicism, a seriousness that Spock didn’t think Kirk could achieve, but there it was.

“You said you had an encounter with Leslie. Which I won’t deny your word-“

“I do not understand why Leslie is relevant in this current situation.”

Kirk sighed and hauled himself off of Spock. He swung his legs over the side of the bed, one word kept creeping into his thoughts.

_Meld._

_Meld._

_Meld._

“Spock, have you had sex before?”

“No.”

It didn’t quite click until Spock said it. But now Kirk understood how important it was for the two of them to take this relationship very seriously and slowly. The mind meld wasn’t going to happen, nor the physical melding. Kirk felt just as uncomfortable as Spock did. A physical relationship with a Vulcan was just as foreign as a telepathic one was to a human. Spock was right, they needed to understand much more about each other.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to—do all that just now.” He chewed the inside of his cheek, and rubbed his hands together. “You weren’t talking about knowing each other like on some dating site or something. I get it. You don’t want me to get into a situation I don’t understand at all. I need to learn about it and then be comfortable with it. And if you want to pursue a physical side to this relationship, I need to make you understand what that entails. Because it’s not all touching and feeling good. There’s deep emotional roots to it.”

He looked over his shoulder, Spock was still lying on his back, but was listening.

“I’m probably not the best guy to teach you about this stuff. But I don’t even know if you’re ready for all this, and I don’t think you even know how to begin to figure that out.”

“What made you think of such a bold statement?”

Kirk stood and faced him. He shoved his fists into his pants’ pockets, just taking in the sight of Spock who seemed to be lying so casually on his bed. His hands behind his head, his legs were crossed. He stared at the ceiling, resembling a human teenager trying to be jaded.

“Jesus, Spock. Cause you were lying under me just taking it and even though you looked like you were having a great time, you still looked like you were trying to hide so much. That’s not okay.”

“I must bear it all to you.” He sat up, letting the late afternoon sun hit his face. It was logical to bear everything during copulation, but that thought started to make Spock feel uneasy. He was taught to repress, and now Kirk was telling him to forgo that. Did Vulcan even have any guidance on this matter? Pon Farr was shameful, he knew that from readings and a few uncomfortable discussions. But should it be shameful when it was with a lover?

“It’s not like I’d go around telling everyone I know what we do when we’re alone. I’m not going to write erotica about our exploits. I wouldn’t even hint outside the bedroom that you’re capable of a smile.”

This may be the one temptation Spock could allow himself to give into. Unlike the other temptations he’s played with while on Earth, Kirk was not a tool for him to learn how to repress. Kirk just may be the temptation that will let him learn how to control every emotion that occasionally sneaks through his shields. Logically Spock could trust Kirk, for Kirk forged the trust by controlling his own emotional and physical needs.

“I am thankful you now understand why I want to proceed with this relationship slowly. I will try my best to emotionally free myself around you.”

“O-only if you really want to!” Kirk cringed. He hoped he didn’t end up manipulating him.

“I do.”


	8. Math and Chill

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Spock and Kirk have a lazy day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I guess this chapter is more like a filler. Yes we learn some things, but really I wanted you all to see what it's like when nothing is going on.

“This is the third time you have completed the problem incorrectly.”

“How?! I’ve watched what you do and I remember your notes but it’s obviously not good enough! What did I do wrong!?”

Spock took a drag on his cigarette before he answered the wide-eyed third year student sitting next to him. They were taking advantage of the warm temperatures, sitting out in one of the many grassy landscapes that sprawled through campus. Spock’s favorite place to tutor outside was 500 yards away from engineering, atop a hill that overlooked the academy’s liberal arts complex.

The student, Paul Fletcher, sighed in frustration. He fell onto his back and waited for Spock to say something; his tutor was taking an awfully long time to scan through the problem.

“While I am grateful for the care you put into your penmanship, I do not appreciate the recklessness you use to outline your thinking. That is, if you are thinking.”

He sat up and glared at Spock. “I DO think. What you think I’m just some mindless idiot because I’m not all logical like you?”

“Math is logical. As logical as constructing the basics of a sentence. Without the right components the sentence is incomplete.” Spock scanned through the five pages it took to solve the problem once more. “The way your work reads is comparable to a book without any punctuation.”

“So then tell me how to fix it.”

“On page three, a third of the way down, you somehow wrote 8x instead of the correct 18x.”

Fletcher grabbed the tablet, and looked at the page himself. “Jesus fucking Christ, I forgot to write down the one!”

Spock fumbled for something in his book bag. He had his own tablet tucked away, a few sheets of transparent aluminum with Vulcan script etched into the surface and the small holophotograph of Kirk fast asleep at his own desk after a long day of studying basic quantum physics. But the second most important object in Spock’s bag was a little opaque aluminum box. He pulled it out and opened it, revealing a stack of joints.

“Cadet Fletcher,” he held out three joints to the frustrated man, “I suggest you learn to slow down.”

Fletcher stared at the rolled paper and laughed. “Pot. Your suggestion is pot?”

“Indica is a suitable strain for you. You understand the math perfectly. I am employed as a math tutor, not a meditation instructor, so I cannot help you any further. But I suggest you sit down and relax.”

“I get now why you’re considered the best tutor.” Fletcher took the joints and stuffed them into his own bag and grinned. “Mr. Spock, thanks. I guess I really need to fix my shit. Especially if YOU told me I made a foolish mistake.”

Fletcher popped up and took his leave. Spock watched the cadet’s figure fade into the distance, and leaned back on his hands, watching the clouds roll in. It was supposed to rain the rest of the week.

The grass stimulated Spock’s fingertips, prickling at his skin at the slightest movement. He couldn’t say he liked the feeling, but it was relaxing. It was mid-day and he should go back to small office on the other side of campus to fulfill his office hours just in case other students of his needed to talk.

Mid-day. Spock had been awake for 32.98 hours crafting another experiment to test his repressive abilities. Rest was required. His students could wait another day.

He pulled off his uniform jacket and set it aside. He dropped his arms to his sides and let his hands rest on the grass. He crossed his legs and sat tall and straight. The slight breeze caressed his bare arms and wrapped around his undershirt. It held him in a trance, where the present was his only concern.

Prickles of grass under his palms.

Wind dancing around his form.

Leaves flickering and crumpling in the distance.

His breath became deeper and calmer. His mind cleared and only the blackness behind his eyelids remained.

_I am here. I am alive. I exist. I am part of this natural world. let'thieri._

An hour later, Spock opened his eyes. Sitting in front of him, Kirk was watching intently.

“How do you do that,” Kirk asked. He leaned in almost as if he were looking for some sort of off switch on the Vulcan.

“Years of practice. Have you been here long?”

Kirk shook his head. “Only about five minutes. I was gonna go home after class and work on a project, but I saw you sitting here. Just thought I’d wait ‘cause you looked like you were sleeping.”

“Not sleeping. However, I will admit that sleep sounds,” he paused wondering if he should continue this line of thought, “nice.”

He cocked his head at Spock. “Nice?” Kirk grinned wildly. “Sleep sounds NICE? Spock, that’s a wildly emotional statement.”

“I did say I would try to emotionally free myself around you, did I not?”

“Okay, yes. You definitely said you’d do that.” Kirk lunged forward onto his hands and knees and lightly kissed Spock on the cheek. “I was not expecting something so outward so soon. I mean I love it when you’re subtle.”

Spock examined Kirk’s face intently. The rhythm in his voice was slightly off, as was his tambour. Normally weighted and a little dark, today his voice felt lighter and overly controlled. The muscles around his jaw were tense, and his brow was just slightly furrowed.

“Yes, subtleties are most telling. You for example are displaying many subtleties currently that are both worrisome for someone like you and inconsistent for someone like me. Is anything the matter?”

Kirk sighed. “I got a great message this morning from Leslie saying I am no longer enrolled in her morals class—a class I need—and that I should discuss the matter with you.”

“Ah yes. She sent me a message as well regarding the matter.”

He stared at Spock waiting for him to continue. When he didn’t, Kirk stood up and folded his arms. “So?”

“If you want to discuss this matter, my office hours are posted on my page, per the campus directory.” Spock stood up and gathered his belongings. Hopefully, Kirk understood that he was being teased.

“SPOCK!”

“I am on personal time, Cadet Kirk. I have research to conduct and I have a rather emotional man to concern myself with.” He gave Kirk the slightest smile; the smallest rise of the corner of his mouth and started to walk along the path towards the building that housed his apartment.

“Hey!” Kirk grabbed his bag and caught up to the Vulcan. “I am in distress here. If I don’t pass that class, then how will I ever graduate?”

Spock seamlessly inched his way closer to Kirk so their arms bumped into each other with every stride the two took. He looked straight ahead, pretending not to notice the exhaustion that was starting to overcome him.

“I am sure you will be told that in order to complete the credit for your class you will be asked to partake in a project involving George Price and his mathematical equation for altruism. You will also be told that this project was formally cleared by the dean some time ago and that your help is completely coincidental.”

Kirk grabbed onto Spock’s right arm. His own tension released. “I have no idea what the hell you just told me I’d be doing, but right now I’m fairly certain I like you even more than I did this morning.”

“Good news. I would not like for this relationship to stall or reverse its course.”

 

They rarely planned anything to do while together. Both were grateful for the companionship; being in each other’s presence was good enough. That day was no different. Spock fell asleep on the sofa, despite telling Kirk multiple times he wasn’t capable of falling asleep. Kirk sat by him on the floor, taking advantage of all the research tools Spock had at his disposal for his project. While he worked, he listened to Spock’s deep breathing.

“Vulcans do not ‘just fall asleep’ they prepare themselves for rest,” Spock had said.

“Yeah well you’re half human and we fall asleep all the time. Embrace it for once,” Kirk had finally gotten through to Spock once he lightly pushed him onto his back. The concession came when Spock yawned.

“I will close my eyes. If that will please you.”

Kirk was now waiting for that moment when Spock would open his eyes, deny he was ever asleep, and establish that Kirk was in no way experienced enough to prove that he was asleep. Spock tried so hard to keep his composure around Kirk, and Kirk knew how important it was to play along.

Because playing along always paid off when Spock trusted Kirk enough to emotionally slip.

Spock stretched out on the sofa moaning, responding to realigning his spine and releasing the tension in his joints. Kirk could have said anything, but he just smiled.

“Have a nice nap?”

The Vulcan rolled onto his stomach, his hair flopping over his eye. He made sure his head was close to Kirk’s, and he draped an arm over the human’s shoulder. “Time?”

“16:03. No one messaged you or anything. Which is a first.” Kirk rested his head on the sofa, bringing his head parallel to Spock’s. “You need anything?”

“I do not require anything more than I have right now.” He yawned once more and noticed the math equation on Kirk’s tablet. He pointed lazily at the screen and mumbled.

“Uh-what?”

“Excuse me, I was working something out,” Spock mumbled something else. “A’ri! You need to rework your function. And rewrite it. Then your entire process will end up working. A simple mistake.”

Kirk burst into laughter.

“I do not see why my correcting your mistakes is hilarious.”

“Cause,” he wiped a tear from his eye, “you care so damn much.”

“I care?” Spock pulled away from Kirk and got off the sofa. He stretched again, his arms rising over his head, his shirt rising upward revealing part of a tattoo along his hip line. “I suppose it being illogical for me to stand by and not help you can be the equivalent to caring about your success in your studies.”

The allure of the tattoo distracted Kirk. The clean black lines and the stippling of shadow lured him into a vivid fantasy with Spock standing in front of him without any pants.

_Maybe if I ask he’ll let me see it. I hope._

“So about that tattoo,” Kirk mused.

“Yes? What about it?” Spock’s arms where at his sides again. He was just about to get water for the both of them.

“What is it, and do you have any more body art I don’t know about?”

“I do not have any more ‘body art’ at the moment. As for the tattoo, it is three variations of dahlias.”

Kirk leaned over on the table, “why flowers? Why—there?”

Spock looked to the ceiling, remembering a series of events that happened during the first week of his arrival to Earth. They were pleasant memories: fragrant and warm.

“The placement of the tattoo was due to many hours of studying my body in front of a mirror to accommodate the artwork.”

_Does he realize he’s putting this image into my head? Does he realize that I am now trying very hard not to imagine him standing naked in front of a mirror studying his own lean muscles and curves and—_

“The dahlias are a symbol of the Vulcan family I stayed with for three days when I first arrived on Earth. My father thought it would be logical for me to assimilate in a familiar setting. Before I moved in at the Academy, I was in the desert Southwest. The temperatures at the time were similar to that of Vulcan. My host family educated me well, and their home was surrounded by a field of dahlias.”

Kirk imagined Spock meditating in the field of flowers. Bees hummed around him pollinating, working hard. A gentle breeze did nothing to cool him and he was content. Kirk wondered if he ever did meditate within the dahlias’ tall stems and whether or not his hair was already cut off on one side and if he was already contemplating on challenging social norms.

And that was something Kirk felt so attracted to. Spock was deeply rooted in his planet’s philosophy, but he challenged how to approach it. Every challenge was still rooted in logic; every whim was still precisely calculated. Kirk saw Spock’s burning desire to refuse conformation. He was still clueless though, as to why he didn’t want to conform.

“Not to be an asshole, but why a permanent marking? Why not take a photo and then frame it?”

“Because Jim, that would diminish the pain and hardship I saw through that family.” He sauntered off, returning quickly with a pitcher of water and two glasses. Inside the pitcher were a few cuttings of honeysuckle and slices of lemon.

“It is still difficult to live on Earth. The climate here is much cooler. The air is thicker. Vulcans are adaptive, the physical strain is simple to overcome. Yet living here, I still encounter difficulties. Humans are very judgmental. Their judgments are inherently based on emotion and aesthetic.”

Kirk poured the water into both glasses and nodded. This was definitely the most serious Spock has gotten while discussing differences between his own culture and that of humans. He hated knowing how long of a history Earth had involving wars over arbitrary characteristics. He hated how it’s still happening.

“Jim, I have never seen so much racism and discrimination since I have moved here.”

They both took a drink. Kirk had to fight himself from defending humans, and telling Spock that they’ve improved. But he knew that Spock was making a valid point. He was also a voice from the outside, and outsiders tended to see with a cleaner lens.

“Are Vulcans capable of racism?”

Spock stared into Kirk’s eyes with striking intensity. “It would be illogical to say that we are not.”


	9. Dream and Fever

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kirk finally feels Spock.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This should have been updated awhile ago. Blame neck injuries. And the Mets.

_“I need you to do one thing for me. Just one thing.”_

_He hovered over him. His hot breath making him sweat. His muscles flexing every time he readjusted himself. His voice was raspy from the deep throated groans that erupted from his vocal chords._

_“Do not let me touch your face.” His fingers glided quickly over the meld points. The spark caused intense pain._

“FUCK!”

Kirk opened his eyes. His head was flush to the hardwood flooring of his bedroom. Half his body was still in bed. He rolled over and let the rest of his body fall to the floor. Panting, he brought his hand up to those spots on his face. It wasn’t the first time he dreamt about Spock touching the meld points, but it was the first occurrence resulting in physical pain.

Every time Kirk had gone to sleep, whether it be for a full night or just a nap, he’d dream about Spock making love to him. Spock was a quiet lover. His every move was carefully calculated, and he always groaned right into Kirk’s ear. Those noises of pure pleasure were only intended for the one he loved, and so he made sure his love was the only one who heard them.

He thought whether his brain’s characterization of Spock was even close to how he really was in bed. He thought about whether or not his brain was trying to give him explicit hints about pursuing a sexual relationship, or if it was just his dick. Spock had come a long way since the last time they discussed the matter. When Kirk first started spending time at Spock’s apartment, Spock wouldn’t dare let Kirk see any of his clothes fold improperly or let his shirts ride up his back, revealing his spine. He wouldn’t even let his muscles relax, he was always tense, like he was ready to pounce at anything that didn’t set well with him.

Now, Spock didn’t attempt to fix his hair when Kirk ruffled it. He stretched out on his own sofa and he didn’t keep a watchful eye on Kirk whenever he disappeared down the hall to the bathroom or walked around the corner to replicate them food. Of course, Spock still kept his home as clean as an operating room, but he didn’t unnecessarily move Kirk’s belongings into a tight concise pile when he threw them down after arriving.

And Kirk upheld his part of the agreement. When someone made a stereotypical remark about Vulcans, Kirk never mentioned any of the first-hand accounts that could challenge the stereotype. No one on campus even knew that Kirk visited Spock every day at his apartment.

Kirk would have dreaded those questions anyway. Spock kept to himself so it was unlikely anyone would know how a Vulcan lived day-to-day. What’s it like to practically live with a Vulcan? Do Vulcans use replicators or do they go grocery shopping? When does Spock decide it’s time to do homework?

Maybe at this point he could take another small step into a sexual relationship with Spock. Perhaps instead of a chaste kiss on the lips and a short lived venture into his mouth, he could explore everything above the shoulders.

He sat up and groaned. His thoughts drifted away from the sexual dream, but that did nothing to calm down his engorged penis.

“Fuck me. Just fuck me.”

Kirk climbed onto his bed and grabbed his phone. He leaned against the wall and sighed.

_Do I call him? Should I even do this? I just need to hear his voice. Just that beautiful lyrical voice. It’s four in the morning. Is he still awake, or is he sleeping for once? And if he does pick up do I just come out and tell him my purpose?_

_Of course, that would be the right thing to do. The only right thing to do. I mean it wouldn’t be so bad. He’s clear across campus. He can’t see me. He’s still protected._

_Right?_

He tapped Spock’s contact information and waited. Luckily it wasn’t long before Spock answered.

“I believe you should be sleeping.”

“I was sleeping, and then something came up.”

There was a short pause, the quiet was too much for Kirk to bear.

“Spock!”

“Jim, are you making sexual innuendo?”

“Okay okay, hear me out. I’ll ask and if you say no, then okay. I just need to hear your voice. I mean, I could totally just jack it and be great. But I mean if I jacked it and listened to your voice I’d be on top of the fucking world.”

There was another pause, a bit longer than the last.

“Explain the idiom, ‘jack it.’”

“Masturbation, Spock. It’s a term for masturbation.”

“What would you like me to say?”

Elation. Absolute elation. Kirk chuckled and rested his head against the wall. “Explain to me your day in great detail. Since I didn’t get to see you at all yesterday.”

So Spock started to describe the previous day in immense detail, right down to the feeling of the watercolor paper under his fingertips. Kirk proceeded to stroke himself in tandem, starting to follow the rhythmic patterns in Spock’s voice. Under normal circumstances, it wouldn’t have taken long to reach orgasm, but in return for Spock’s voice, self-torture through masturbation wasn’t an entirely a bad deal.

Kirk sighed, jubilation rippling through his entire body as he finally let himself ejaculate. “Thank you.”

There was a short pause.

“You are the first person I have heard orgasm.”

“O-oh? And how did that go for you?”

“It is fascinating.”

Kirk could have sworn he saw Spock lift his eyebrows in that same way he did every time he said something was fascinating.

“How so?”

“As of right now, you are completely vulnerable. And in that singular moment of orgasm, your control over yourself must be very limited.”

“I-well yeah. I mean it’s a rush of pleasure that takes over your entire body. And it feels so good you don’t want it to stop. And your mind just blanks out while it happens. You always talk about being in the present and taking it all in. That’s pretty much what it is.”

The pause that came after was so long, Kirk thought Spock hung up on him.

“And you trusted me with such a vulnerability.”

Kirk really hadn’t thought about it so straightforward. He was hung up on the nuances of emotion and sharing those emotions that he forgot there was a gaping hole of vulnerabilities. It was laid out perfectly in front of him. He trusted Spock to do no harm, and he hoped that one day Spock would trust him to do no harm as well.

“I trust you entirely.” He might as well ask it. “You trust me?”

Spock could have easily said yes. They just shared an intimate moment. But why did he trust Kirk so much? Obviously, Kirk upheld his promise, keeping Spock’s privacy and emotionless stature intact. There were other factors at play though, and he hated to admit that one might have been the emotion of adoration for him. Perhaps if Spock were to project his human self on someone, on anyone, Kirk was the only logical choice. In this relationship, Spock held the reigns of reason and logic, while Kirk was wild with intuition and emotion. They were starting to function like a single unit. Yet unlike Spock’s inner battles, he didn’t have to repress feelings.  

“It is logical to trust you. You were and are currently faithful to your promise.”

“You make me feel so much better about everything, Spock. I love you.”

 

Love. The most befuddling feeling of all.

Was it a gaffe? Did Kirk really mean it when he said “I love you?” He was after all still in a highly emotional state. But Spock couldn’t sufficiently conclude that it was meaningful or meaningless when he didn’t understand what love was. Of course, the closest feeling is comparable to what he feels for his mother. But logically, species all over the universe have strong mother-offspring bonds. Vulcans in the grand scheme were no different. Parents provided their children with shelter and food and education and every other component to survival.

But his mother inundated him with her emotions. She laughed and cried, she got angry and frustrated. Those emotions swallowed him up, and his human half let him feel something more than what was conveyed through physical manifestations. It was a feeling for need and longing and intense anxiety. Once in his life, Spock could have said he liked his mother’s hugs and kisses, but that didn’t exactly fall in line with Surak’s philosophies. Spock matured, and he no longer needed a motherly protector.

But the bond remained. They never discussed it, but both Spock and his mother knew that their minds were linked on a level that surpassed a mind meld. It is a feeling that has no sufficient definition, it exists because sentient beings exist.

Spock grabbed his tablet and settled in on his sofa, giving up his attempt to meditate. He pulled up photos of the newest super nova Starfleet was watching and focused on the swirls of dust. While he tried to calculate the rate at which the dust was traveling, Kirk’s voice rang clearly.

_“I just love how we’re all from the same place. I can look at the sky and see the stars and know that at one time you and I were the same, the exact same stuff. And now I’m here. I found you again. It took billions of years, but I’m back where I started; with you.”_

He threw the tablet to the other end of the sofa and grabbed his lighter. If simple physics couldn’t allow him to focus, then surely pot would.

But Kirk had a rebuttal to that decision too.

_“Are you sure it’s still an experiment? You smoke that stuff all the time.”_

So he slammed the lighter back down on his coffee table and got dressed for the day.

Dating James Tiberius Kirk was a bigger temptation than Spock projected.

 

Kirk waltzed into Spock’s small office and shut the door behind him. He placed a box on Spock’s desk and pushed it toward the Vulcan. Kirk sat down in the large comfy chair that faced Spock’s desk, placing his own box in front of him.

“You’re very certain of yourself today.” Spock looked down at the box and back up to Kirk who was grinning wildly. His eyes glittered in excitement; they were darker than usual.

“I brought you lunch! And good thing too because you used a contraction. You only use contractions when you’re tired.” He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “You okay? I-I’m sorry about last night. I was really—I should have—I fucked up. It’s way too early for me to be asking you to do stuff like that.”

Spock released himself from his tight control, like he had been doing recently in the private company of Kirk. He knew no one would open his office door unannounced. Spock leaned back in his chair just a bit more and yawned. “It’s alright. I know that it was bound to happen. I had been preparing for some sort of sexual encounter with you anyway. Since you are indeed a sexual being.”

“Ha! Well that’s definitely a thing!” Kirk fumbled with his box of food and opened it. He gazed longingly at the contents. Freshly made tuna rolls, shrimp tempura, rice, and his favorite: ebi. “Eat up Spock! The longer you wait to eat, the less fresh it’ll be! And I got you all that disgusting stuff you like.”

He tilted his head, a bit astounded by the sudden change in Kirk’s tempo and train of thought. Opening his own bento, he smirked ever so slightly; just enough to let Kirk notice. In fact, Kirk was starting to read Spock’s expressions with a 79.9384 percent accuracy.

“What!?”

Spock looked back up at Kirk whose eyes were wide in exasperation. “I don’t understand what is so disgusting about eating octopus and eel. Jim, I witnessed you eating 63.98 percent of your daily caloric intake with one fried cupcake creation at the confectionary shop. I believe your judgment in this regard is inferior to mine.”

Kirk frowned, exaggerating its appearance with a huff; a playful teasing gesture. “Eat your lunch Mister Spock. I worked really really hard to cut class early and go downtown to get this for us.”

“You cut class?”

He munched on his tempura and nodded. “I am so hungry, Spock. So. Hungry.”

Their lunch was routine. Silent but still enjoyable. Kirk spread out, stretching his legs so his ankles fell right next to Spock’s. He chuckled when Spock looked up at him with a quizzical look.

“I just like touching you. I can’t help it.”

Spock nodded in agreement. “I find that making contact with you is—a positive experience.”

“Oh great! I’d hate myself if I only made you feel neutral.” Kirk closed his eyes and smiled. He leaned his head back in the chair exposing the length of his neck.

Spock twitched. He felt warmer in his face than usual.

Was he actually blushing?

Kirk was focusing on his own breathing. He focused on the rise and fall of his chest and he let his body sink into the comfy chair. He didn’t notice anything around him except for the current of the air filtration system.

He nearly yelped, but stopped himself from making a loud audible noise and settled for a gasp. Spock was very delicately dragging his tongue along the length of Kirk’s neck.

“Sp-Spock,” Kirk grabbed the arms of the chair, clenching tightly, his fingers feeling like they were going to penetrate the fabric. “H-hi!”

Spock straddled Kirk in the chair and continued to lick and kiss up and down his neck. “I had dreamed of doing this. Far more satisfactory while awake.”

Kirk wrapped his arms around Spock, dragging his finger tips along his spine. He thought it was weird that Spock had the same dream, but perhaps all their time spent together meant they were starting to think alike.

“Jim,” Spock lifted his head from the crook of his neck, “we need to discuss this issue.”

“I think we’re discussing it pretty well right now.”

“I’m not looking for humor,” Spock growled. He grabbed onto Kirk’s forearms and held them tightly, pressing them against the arms of the chair.

“Hey okay! I mean clearly you’re fine with it, I’m fine with it. I’m not gonna fuck you any time soon, but I mean if you really want to continue to hold me down and kiss me and growl in my ear go on ahead!”

He grabbed on to Kirk’s hand, gripping it until his knuckles were white. Kirk returned the favor, gripping Spock’s just as hard and kissing him eagerly. Kirk had always felt some sort of a spark when they held hands, but now he felt hunger. He felt desperate, eager hunger for himself. Spock radiated more emotion than Kirk ever thought he had. Of course he knew there was emotion there, but he felt it raging inside, pent up within its physical confines.

It was heat. A burning sensation travelled through Kirk’s nervous system. He was paralyzed from the feeling but also from the knowledge that the sensation was Spock. It was all of him, aside from his actual thoughts.

Spock felt Kirk’s usual warmth. This time it didn’t travel through his body like the sweet honey he was accustomed to. Kirk’s aura hesitated, it flickered in and out. He pulled away from Kirk slightly, “is something the matter?”

Kirk took in a deep breath, filling his lungs with the cool air that surrounded him. He felt that it would cool him down but the burning still spread through his body.

“I f-feel you,” he smiled nonetheless, it was an extraordinary moment, “but you’re so hot. You’re burning. All I feel is heat.”

The Vulcan’s eyes softened. He let go of Kirk’s hand. “Shhh,” he murmured, his face slowly closing in on Kirk’s. He chastely brushed his lips against the human’s and brought his hand up to Kirk’s face. His fingers hovered over the meld points.

Spock would have made contact if not for a knock at the door.


	10. Union

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kirk and Spock spend some quality time together while McCoy makes dinner.

At this point, monogamy was still strange for Kirk. He was particularly used to calling multiple people to see what they were up to, so when he was only calling Spock, Kirk’s realization about dependence alarmed him.

_I’m depending on this one guy for everything. He’s keeping me together. Whatever happened to the guy I used to be? I’d go out and explore and find my own way. Now look at me! I’m always, ALWAYS crawling to Spock. I hope he’s not getting sick of me. I hope he still likes me. I hope he still wants to kiss me. I-_

Soft and heated lips brushed his own. Kirk opened his eyes, Spock was hovering over him, standing on his knees.

“You two make me sick,” Bones muttered as he walked through the front door shaking out his umbrella. He was carrying a bag of groceries, preparing for their weekly homemade dinner. “That’s all Spock was talking about. Do you think Jim likes this? Or would he prefer this? WELL WHY DON’T YOU CALL HIM UP AND ASK HIM YOU DINGUS.”

“And I assured Leonard that if I called you, your mid-day nap would be disrupted.”

Bones threw his hands up into the air as he stormed into the kitchen. “MISTER NOSFERATU KNOWS WHEN YOU SLEEP!?”

“I must know when he sleeps, I do not want to impede on his rest.” Spock looked back down at Kirk who had been trying to figure out if he had fallen asleep and this whole confrontation was a dream.

“You guys went shopping together?”

“Yes. I needed to discuss some things with Leonard so it was only logical to partake in his chore. It was also logical to help considering you have invited me to this weekly occasion for a month now.”

Kirk sat up and put on his uniform jacket. He got a better look at Spock, his wet hair stuck to his forehead. “You look cold. Still pouring I’m assuming?”

Spock removed his gloves, carefully taking Kirk’s hand. The honey-like warmth swept through him, calming his chilled body. “Both of your assumptions are correct.”

When Spock took Kirk’s hand, he felt the radiating heat surge through his body once more. It wasn’t as powerful or alarming as the first time Kirk experienced Spock’s aura, but the pulsing fiery conflict within still coursed through his veins. At least now it was manageable, and it was starting to become enjoyable. Kirk kissed Spock’s cheek, and wiped away the wet hair on his forehead.

“Go take a hot shower. Grab one of my shirts and a big fluffy blanket and we’ll cuddle until dinner is ready.”

“Jim,” Spock started to protest, but he was slowly being pushed away.

“I can’t bare to look at a sick Vulcan. Especially when he’s MY sick Vulcan that I gotta take care of. C’mon Spock. It’s the logical thing to do.”

Spock nodded in agreement. It was the logical course of action. Logical to prevent sickness, logical to keep Kirk happy. It seemed as though most things were logical now, that his biggest purpose was to keep this human content.

When Kirk heard the water running, he meandered over to the kitchen. Bones was peeling potatoes and cutting up other vegetables like celery and carrots, all ready to go into a large pot. Sunday night dinner was Bones’ most relaxing night. He didn’t have to wake up early on Monday and the process of cooking one of his family’s recipes was therapeutic. It was the compassionate side of Bones that always interested Kirk. Normally he was on edge, and sarcasm dripped off his tongue.

“Okay man, spill it. What did you and Spock talk about while you were shopping?”

Bones rolled his eyes. “All I’m good for, eh? Gossip about your boyfriend?” He sighed, “he just wanted to talk about some body modification stuff.”

“What? Why!? He’s already charming and beautiful and-and—why!?”

The frustration in Kirk’s voice caught Bones’ attention. Enough to stop him from cutting the vegetables. “Jesus Jim. He can do whatever he wants as long as it’s not illegal.”

Kirk grabbed a couple of carrot slices and munched on them, “I know, I know. I fucking know. I’m just protective okay?”

“You know there’s a point when protection becomes intrusive right? There’s a thing called privacy in which we’re all entitled to. And even though I don’t agree with wicked witch of the east up there, I’m not going to infringe on that right.” He pursed his lips and folded his arms. “He did ask though if you celebrated Thanksgiving. Which I thought was hilariously human of him.”

The traditional American holiday was that week. Kirk hadn’t thought about it. Of course classes were cancelled for those who did celebrate it. For everyone else it was a much needed break before final exams.

 “Oh. We--my mom and I never really,” Kirk stared at the floor. It was the first time he really thought of home since he came to San Francisco. By now there would have been snow on the ground, the nights would be unbearably cold, and he would be face down in another bar as drunk as could be.

He was amazed how much the academy turned him around in a few months.

“Yeah, my family never celebrated either. Mom would always tell us ‘if you have to have a holiday to tell you to be thankful for this house or this food or the clothes on your back, I’m going to send you out into that garden and work you until you’re damn well thankful for those shoes on your feet.’”

“Any explanation to why he asked about Thanksgiving?” He leaned on the counter, picking at the portions of the veggies Bones cut off. “You think,” Kirk gasped. “Bones! Spock comes from an alien planet!”

Bones slowly turned his head from his food preparation and gandered at Kirk who was frowning quite impressively. “They keep saying you’re a genius. I don’t see it.”

“He can’t go home like most everyone else on campus, what if he thinks I’m gonna leave him here all alone for a week!”

“I actually was going to ask you if you were available to celebrate with me and my family. My mother and father will be in town.”

Spock leaned against the wall, his hair still wet. Instead of wearing his damp and cold clothes, which would defeat the purpose of showering, Spock threw on one of Kirk’s button downs and he even managed to find a pair of jeans that fit him correctly.

“Of course,” he continued, “if you have plans already…”

“Nope, no plans.” Kirk set his hands on Spock’s waist. He smirked as his thumbs traced his hip bones. “I mean, I honestly thought that I was gonna go on a two-day binge and then maybe I’d do some of this too.”

He kissed Spock which was met with eager reciprocation. Spock leaned into the kiss, and grabbed Kirk’s hands. Lately, Spock simply couldn’t force himself to appreciate kissing without that extra spark of intensity.

“Rule number 10,” Bones bellowed at the two, “no making out in the kitchen! You’re breaking health codes and I’ll be damned if you two ruin dinner!”

Kirk retorted, “I thought that was rule 49?”

Spock started to pull Kirk into the living room. His face was still hovering close to Kirk’s. “Rule 49 is no hand jobs in the kitchen, Jim.”

The image was delightful. Kirk sitting on the counter, his back flat across the panes of the window, his lover tugging and pulling while he was on his knees bent over him, digging his teeth into his neck.

He directed Spock over to the stairs and pulled him up to his room. Kirk planned to push him down onto his bed, but once again Spock had gained the upper hand. He was pinned to the mattress, Spock gripping Kirk’s shoulders.  

“It was a mistake for you to request that I shower,” his voice lowered. Every time they entered a provocative situation, Spock’s voice lowered into a deep growl. Kirk wasn’t sure if it was species-related, and if so, was it evolutionary?

“Why’s that?”

“I had much to think about.” He tugged on Kirk’s uniform jacket. “Off. The shirt as well.”

Kirk complied, and before he knew what was happening, Spock had him pinned down once again. The Vulcan’s wet hot tongue slid up from Kirk’s belly button to the point of his chin, and he completed the action with a kiss. He arched up, his groin pressing against Spock’s.

A deep-throated laugh escaped from Kirk when Spock pressed harder against him. It wasn’t humorous, not at all, but it made Kirk happy. Joy overwhelmed him, knowing that Spock was at this very moment discovering his own sexuality and it was at his own pace. For once, Kirk wasn’t coaxing anything out of his partner. Kirk realized it was safer for Spock to pin him, rather than the reverse, no matter how badly Kirk wanted to. Maybe one day they’d get to that point, but he was perfectly fine to act as a guide.

Spock groaned in response. He had never experienced or felt this kind of pleasure before and he wanted more of it. But it was troubling, he didn’t know how to gauge what Kirk needed or wanted from him. He looked pleased himself, and quite content.

“Jim,” his breath hitched, “I do not—know where to go from here.”

Kirk squeezed Spock’s hand gently. “Where do you want it to go? I’m willing to try just about anything. I’ll let you know if we should stop.”

The pleasure and the honey warmth of Kirk’s aura made it almost impossible for Spock to think clearly. He couldn’t calculate the logic or illogic in all of this, but he yearned for every bit of Kirk.

“Previously,” he brushed his lips against Kirk’s, the resulting combination of physical contact and that with his aura forced Kirk to lift his hips off the bed.

“Fucking hell Spock!” He could feel himself getting harder. “Dragging this all out much? You’re driving—me fucking crazy!”

Spock sat up and unbuttoned his shirt. He threw it to the corner of the room. His hand once again hovered over the meld points on Kirk’s face.

Kirk pulled Spock down by the back of his neck. Lust lingered on his face, something Spock had never really seen before.

“I swear to god you fucking Vulcan, I am going to cum in my pants.”

He made contact, and Kirk felt a surge of energy he had never felt before. It was stunning and overpowering. His sight and hearing were faltering, but he heard, or rather felt a voice within him.

“My mind to your mind; my thoughts to your thoughts.”

That beautiful lyrical voice sang to him, travelling everywhere he felt his body could reach. From the tips of his fingers down to his toes, he felt Spock speak. The Vulcan repeated the phrase, and Kirk responded.

“My thoughts to yours.”

It was an understatement to feel that Spock was already within every inch of his body. Once Kirk consented, Spock told him to relax for it would be a sensation that was overwhelming.

The meld at first was like a rush of water pouring through a broken dam. Just like water, Spock found every crevice and lingered there, intermixing with everything around it. The issue for Spock was keeping his control. It was no ordinary meld, and already the act took considerable concentration. He had to work with his and Kirk’s synapses, enveloping and twisting, cushioning them from potential harm.

Spock focused on keeping the meld to a less intrusive state. There was no need for the two to have complete access to each other’s memories. When he was satisfied with the shields he built for the two, Spock relaxed and called out to Kirk.

“Are you alright,” although there was no need to ask. Spock felt Kirk in every aspect. But since Kirk had no practice in Vulcan techniques and wasn’t even a telepath, the verbal communication would have to persist.

“I thought the hand-holding was a lot. Feeling your aura was striking but this—holy shit. It’s you. This is you! I can hear your thoughts, I can feel you, but it’s all inside.” Kirk opened his eyes.

The Vulcan was glowing, at least that’s how Kirk saw him. He was only a physical manifestation of thought and yes, emotion. There were hints of adoration, confusion, and indeed sexual hunger. But the most exciting part of it was feeling Spock’s reaction to one emotion that triggered confusion out of every human: love.

“So that what it is like,” he mumbled. “Jim, it is very plain to me now. This substantial feeling you consider love mimics my own.”

“I really do not want this to end.”

“Unfortunately,” Kirk spoke along side Spock, “you need to eat and study in the near future.”

 

* * *

 

Spock’s phone chimed. The bright light lit up Kirk’s room. The rain was still heavily coming down, the noise even louder since the two opened the window for cooler air. After dinner, Kirk convinced Spock to stay over that night, although it didn’t take much. Spock was tired after performing a mind meld and keeping it completely in control, as well as from the sequential mutual masturbation. It even surprised Kirk to see Spock completely passed out ten minutes after lying his head down on the pillow.

He carefully climbed out of Kirk’s bed, picking up the shirt he threw on the floor earlier and put it on. His phone said it was 07:36, and that his mother was calling.

“Oh Spock, darling. I was getting worried.” She waited 1.034 seconds to speak when he answered. “Normally you’re so diligent. Is everything okay, dear?”

“Everything, that is in my immediate sphere of influence, is ‘okay’ mother.” He quietly walked out of Kirk’s room and leaned on the wall in the hallway. “Why are you calling?”

“You don’t,” she hesitated, “it’s not like you to forget. Your father and I have arrived at the starbase. I was wondering if you’d be making it to the reception.”

It was unlike Spock to be forgetful. Of course it was also unlike Spock to be groped in ways he’d never considered for the sake of reaching an orgasm. He figured it was the overall fatigue he suffered that impaired his memory.

“I am required to be there; I am part of the academy’s reception delegation.”

“Is that so? I’m pleased to know they’re teaching you all how to respect formalities. But I am most excited to see you again, dear. It’s been so long.”

“Yes, it has been quite some time since we last saw each other. Mother, I must prepare for later this morning. I will talk to you later.”

“I can’t wait. I love you, Spock.”

He shut his eyes. “I love you too, mother.” Spock ended the call without her being able to respond to his first use of the phrase since his adolescence.

Kirk stirred in his sleep, he could feel Spock’s presence. It was something that he explained could happen. He dreamed about the possibilities of finding Spock no matter what, and never worrying about where he went.

His eyes flickered open when Spock kissed him on the cheek. “Hey,” he smiled, “what’s up?”

“I do not wish to leave, but I must. I have a small reception ceremony I must attend.”

Kirk looked more awake than he did a few seconds ago. “Oh, I should go with you!”

Spock grabbed Kirk’s shoulder. “It would be unwise for a cadet with no knowledge of this to attend. I do not think you want to embarrass yourself or Starfleet.”

“O-oh. Um, you’ll be back today right? I mean, if you can’t come back today that’s totally fine, I’m sure-“

“I will return.”


End file.
